Scythe
by Mew Draiku
Summary: MxR, YMxB Death decides to retire, so he hands over the scythe to a random person by the name of Malik. Add the new death to a shy psychiatrist, a sociopath, and the ultra-rich owner of a huge company. What do you get? Crap hitting the fan, that's what.
1. Chapter 1

Mew: I've been working on this new story, and I liked the plot, so I decided to post it. It's definitely going to be a short one, everyone. As for updates, they'll be (more or less) every Friday. I have the plot laid out, and all I have to do is write it. Will this affect postings of Badass Boyfriend? No; I'm pretty confident that I can do 'em both at the same time. –grin-

Draiku: Mew's challenging herself by doing scheduled updates for two stories at once, in case you didn't know that already.

Mew: Yup! And I'm quite happy with this so far. Anyway, leave a review at the end so I can decide if I should continue it or not. Again, like Badass Boyfriend, that'll be determined by the number of reviews I get. –evil cackle-

Disclaimer: Mew Draiku doesn't own anything mentioned in this fic. She's too poor, and doesn't even have a job.

Scythe

Chapter 1

Death walked through an old English town, sighing rather tiredly. He drummed his bony fingers against the blade of his scythe, narrowing his eye sockets. The dark angel looked around, and finally came across the man he was supposed to reap. A druggie, probably twenty or thirty, snorting crack, with dark bags underneath his eyes.

Death walked over, putting the scythe on his shoulder, and stood in front of the man. The druggie was so high his weary eyes could actually see the black angel, and he let out a short cry. Death immediately slew him, and the man slumped as his soul left his body.

The skeleton looked up at the sky and sighed once again.

"I need a break," he muttered.

-

Meanwhile, in Japan, Malik Ishtar was peacefully asleep. It was late at night, and everyone was resting. He sighed into the soft pillow, hugging it like a stuffed animal. A large smile played across his face as he dreamt about his future.

He'd studied art in college for years, only to remain poor and broke all the time. But now he'd made it big with a piece he'd been selling at an artist's convention. Someone had offered him a job. All he had to do was make an advertisement that would grab peoples' attention, like a car crash.

He almost laughed in his sleep.

-

Death chose a random household to appear in. He created a portal, and stepped through it. Instantly, he was in a man's room. He stepped over, his bony feet scratching against the wood, and stood above his victim.

The man was rather young, probably about twenty or so. He had tanned skin and blond hair, oddly enough, yet it looked pleasing at the same time. Death couldn't see, but the male also had violet eyes, a strikingly rare color nowadays.

He lifted his scythe, and that was when the boy awoke. He looked around, and saw Death, standing above him, scythe raised.

-

Malik let out a cry of horror. The black angel had come here, to his room, the night before he signed the job contract! It couldn't be happening! It just couldn't!

"Here," the skeleton said, offering him the scythe. Malik gasped, staring at him, eyes wide. Sweat trickled down his face like bullets and his heart thumped against his chest as if it wanted out.

Malik didn't move. He was paralyzed. In return, Death sighed with annoyance. He snapped his fingers, and Malik instantly fell to the bed, eyes closed. However, he wasn't dead. Only asleep. Death placed the scythe next to his head, and was gone with only one thought on his mind.

Ah…Retirement is bliss.

-

Malik awoke the next morning. He groaned, rubbing his head, and sat up. He'd had the most peculiar dream about Death, trying to give him his scythe. It was creepy, yes, but unbelievable.

The man crawled out of bed lazily, sighing. Then he remembered—the contract! He was to sign it today!

Instantly, he was awake. He dressed quickly, yet neatly, and grabbed his car keys and whatever else he felt he needed. He ran outside excitedly, and jumped into his car. He hurriedly drove to his new employer's office and parked, then ran inside eagerly.

He skidded to a stop in front of the lady at the reception desk. She looked at him with wide eyes, and sat back in her seat as if she wanted to get away from him.

"Ma'am, Mr. Newman offered me a job, and I'm here to sign the contract. What room is his?" he asked. She stared at him even longer. "Um, ma'am?" Malik said, confused.

"If you don't get out right this moment, I'll call security," she whispered. Malik blinked, truly confused, and she stood. "Get out!" she yelled. Malik gasped, and hurried outside as she screamed at him. He got into his car, feeling more confused than ever, and placed his forehead against the wheel, groaning.

However, the groaning stopped when he suddenly had this incredible urge to eat apples. He knew that Ryou, his friend from college, owned several apple trees in his backyard, so he drove there. Besides, he' hadn't seen him in a while. A visit couldn't hurt, now could it?

He pulled into Ryou's driveway and walked up to his door. Malik rang the doorbell, and it was answered a moment later by Ryou.

"Hi, Ryou! I was in the neighborhood, so I decided to stop by. I hope this isn't a bad time," he said, scratching the back of his head. Ryou stared at him a long while.

"Oh—it's not a bad time at all," he said. "Come in." He stepped aside and allowed Malik entrance.

"Thank you, Ryou," he said.

"Do you want anything to eat or drink?" Ryou offered, being the polite man he was.

"If it isn't too much trouble—do you still have those apple trees?" Malik asked a bit shyly.

"I thought that you hated apples," Ryou said, raising an eyebrow. Malik blinked, and shook his head.

"No, no—I've taken quite a liking to them in the last few years," he replied.

"Yes, it has been a while," Ryou said, going to his fridge. He took out an apple and tossed it at Malik with a "catch." Malik snatched it out of the air and bit down. He paused a moment, chewing the fruit, and sighed as if in bliss.

"Oh—that's good," he whispered, and kept eating.

"You've…changed since we last talked, have you?" Ryou asked, looking at Malik.

"I guess you could say that," he said through bites.

"What's with the sudden craving for apples?" the other boy questioned. Malik shrugged.

"I have no idea," he replied as he finished the apple. "Could I have another?" Ryou nodded and tossed him another red fruit, and Malik happily bit into it. "Actually—these were probably the reason I came here. Since you have such big, red, ripe, luscious, juicy—."

"I get it," Ryou replied, sitting down.

"But, I was also hoping that, since you majored in psychology and dreams and whatnot, you could help me out," Malik added. Ryou blinked and nodded. Malik sat across from him, finishing his apple.

"Well, what happened?" he asked.

"I had a dream that Death came to me and offered me his scythe. I screamed, of course, but he wouldn't leave. He just held out his scythe to me," Malik said. Ryou stared at him, eyes wide.

"I read a book about this," he whispered. "Grim Reapers love apples, right? How many apples did you eat a week ago?" Malik blinked.

"None," he replied. "You don't possibly think that…" Ryou pointed to the object Malik was clutching in one hand.

"How do you explain that?" he asked. Malik blinked, and looked up.

His right hand was gripping an abnormally large scythe, decorated with pictograms and codes. He let out a cry and dropped it, then looked at Ryou.

"I never noticed it! Honestly! I don't know how, but I—oh, dear lord, something's wrong with me. Something's very, very wrong," he said. "I can't be Death. I just can't be! I'm not! I'm not!" He sobbed and fell to his knees in front of Ryou. "Please, Ryou, please help me get back to normal," he begged.

"I'll help you, Malik, I promise," Ryou replied, smiling kindly. "Just don't kill me." He helped Malik up, and the boy sighed.

"Gods, I can't believe this," Malik uttered, sitting down once again. He stared at the scythe and looked away from it.

"Don't worry, we'll find a way to get things back to normal. Alright?" Ryou said. Malik nodded, and suddenly the doorbell rang. Ryou got up. "I'll get that. Just a moment," he said. He opened the door. "Mom? What are you doing here?" Malik heard him say.

"Ryou, please, can you take care of your brother while I'm gone? My boss needs me at this meeting, but it's in the US! Could you?" a woman said.

"S-sure, I will," Ryou replied.

"Thank you so, so much, Ryou," his mother said, hugging him. She promptly left, driving away. Malik peered out the door and saw a boy with long, white hair standing in the doorway, holding two large suitcases. Around his wrists were thick bandages, indicating that he'd attempted suicide before. He wore jeans and a black shirt, and had almost no expression.

"Come in, Bakura," Ryou said, taking the suitcases from him. "Have a seat. Malik, my friend, is here, by the way. Don't worry about his scythe, he's in acting and I was helping him rehearse." Malik smiled at Bakura.

"Nice to meet you," he said, standing and holding out a hand. Bakura ignored him and sat down roughly. He rested his elbow on the armrest and placed his chin in his hand. Malik blinked, feeling rather annoyed at the man's actions.

"He won't talk to you," Ryou said. "He's very antisocial. He hasn't said anything for a while now." Malik shot a slight glare at Bakura, who didn't care.

"How long has he been like this?" he asked.

"Since eighth grade," Ryou replied. Malik's eyes widened.

"He hasn't spoken a word since then?" he asked, disbelieving. Ryou nodded.

"Yeah," he replied. Malik cleared his throat.

"So, um, why haven't I met him before? I was over at your house plenty of times during elementary, middle, and high school, but I don't remember seeing him once," he asked.

"He was in an insane asylum for a few years," Ryou replied. "Before eighth grade he talked a lot. But it was always about death and Satan and all sorts of things like that, in great detail. He was put into the asylum one day for bringing it up in class for the umpteenth time. Then he was kept there because he wouldn't talk to anyone. About a month ago he attempted suicide, and they had to take him to the hospital. Mom ordered for him to stay out of that place, so she's been taking care of him ever since. Problem is, he can't be left alone. At all. Not even for a second."

"I…I see," Malik muttered. Ryou sighed sadly. He walked to Bakura and sat next to him, tapping his shoulder. Bakura looked at him, the light of the room shining off his eyes.

"Are you hungry or something?" he asked gently. Bakura shook his head once and put his chin back on his hand. "Okay. If you do get hungry, I can make something for you, and there's always the fridge." Bakura sighed, and, in turn, Malik and Ryou did as well.

TBC

Mew: Well? Do you want me to continue this, or not? I gladly will, since I, personally, love it so far. Anyway, let me know in a review.

Draiku: Yes, let her know. As mentioned before, this'll be determined if she gets X number of reviews with in X number of days.

Mew: Someone's been paying attention in Geometry!

Draiku: …shut up.

Yoko: Thanks for reading, everyone! Anyway, remember to R&R, please! Mew would love to hear your thoughts!


	2. Chapter 2

Mew: Haha! I lied. These will be updated weekly on Thursday. I finished this chapter sooner than I figured I would! Anyway, I've decided to continue this, as I told many of the reviewers. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Draiku: Marik finally shows up. –rolls eyes-

Mew: Yes, he does! In the very beginning, too. –laughs- Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: Mew Draiku doesn't own Porsches, and she especially doesn't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Scythe

Chapter 2

A black Porsche drove through a rather poor-looking neighborhood one day. Heads turned, and gang members discussed possible ways to steal it. Others who didn't belong to gangs murmured that it would definitely be stolen, one way or another.

However, the owner of the car was a man with enough money to encircle the world thousands of times in hundred-dollar bills. If this car was stolen, he could always buy another one with pocket change. He wore sunglasses and a suit almost everywhere he went, even to fast food joints. Countless numbers of people hated him. After all, he'd driven them out of business. However, he kept a permanent smirk on his face no matter what the circumstances.

Today, he was visiting his poor, starving artist of a brother, Malik Ishtar.

Marik pulled into an apartment parking lot and hurriedly stepped outside, muttering to himself.

"Damn them, damn them all. I don't understand why they can't just call him up to see how he's doing!" he grumbled. Just a week ago, his parents had told him to visit Malik to see how he was doing. Their parents were very strict people, and if something didn't go their way, they'd cut off all communications from the person in question.

Marik paused a moment to recall the "incident" almost ten years ago, when Malik was cut off. His parents wanted him to become a doctor or a lawyer, but Malik truly wanted to be an artist. He took art in the university, and because of that, Malik was "erased" from the family tree. Since then, Marik hadn't heard from him. He only knew where he lived.

The tall man walked up to the apartment and rang the doorbell. He waited a second, then rang it again. And again. And again. Finally, he pressed the doorbell over and over again for ten minutes straight. Still, no answer.

Marik grew frustrated and left. He climbed back into his Porsche and decided to drive around a bit and wait until his "Malik sense" tingled. He'd developed the ability when he'd first started his gay escort business, and he had a hunch that it'd stuck with him through the years.

He drove through the streets rather quickly, waiting patiently and calmly, until finally, as he passed a small home, the hair on the back of his neck stood slightly. He instantly stopped the car, got out, and hurried to the door, where he rang it and waited once again.

-

The doorbell in Ryou's home rang yet again. Ryou rolled his eyes and got up.

"Watch Bakura, alright?" he said. Malik nodded and Ryou went to the door. He opened it, and instantly looked up to see a tall man with tanned skin, and spiky blond hair. He looked like someone out of a spy movie with the suit and sunglasses.

"Um…" Ryou started, not quite sure what to say. "Can I help you?"

"Malik's here, right?" the man replied. "Get him for me." Ryou gasped.

"Um, Malik isn't here," he answered, instinctively protecting his friend by lying.

"Yeah, right!" the man growled. "My Malik sense is tingling a ton right here, so he must be here!" Ryou stared at him.

"I'm sorry, but he isn't here," he said, voice shaking. The man glared behind his sunglasses and pushed past him into the living room, where he saw his brother, sitting on the couch.

"There you are!" he said, smirking once again. Malik looked up, staring.

"Marik? What are you doing here?" he asked, incredulous. Ryou hurried into the room.

"You know this guy?" he asked. Malik nodded.

"He's my brother!" he replied, getting up. "Marik, why are you here?" he asked, but Marik ignored him. He was grinning quite lecherously, walking towards Bakura. The pale man didn't even look up. Malik blinked, then groaned and rolled his eyes.

Marik smirked, sitting next to Bakura.

"Why hello there," he murmured, eyes half-closed lustfully. He carefully wrapped an arm around Bakura's shoulders. "What's your name?" Bakura didn't even look up, and he definitely didn't reply. Marik frowned, raising an eyebrow. "Hm. Usually you would have either succumbed to my sexiness, or pushed me away in disgust. But you're still ignoring me."

"He won't answer you," Ryou said, sitting down with Malik. "He hasn't spoken a word since eighth grade." Marik raised an eyebrow at him.

"Really," he said, and smirked. "Then I'll get him to talk. Somehow I will. Maybe you'll speak with I do this…?" He grabbed Bakura by the torso and began licking and nipping his neck. Bakura glared and pushed him away, then went back to sulking. Marik stared, disbelieving. "He didn't even cuss me out! And he didn't even growl or something!" he whispered.

"I told you," Ryou said, shrugging. He looked to Malik. "Are you really sure he's your brother? You two are polar opposites." Malik shrugged.

"Even I'm beginning to wonder. Anyway, what are you doing here?" he asked. Marik sighed, sitting back, and stringing an arm around Bakura's shoulder again.

"Mom wanted me to check on you, see if you'd gotten AIDS yet," Marik replied, "what with your bohemian artist lifestyle." Malik sweatdropped.

"Well, tell her that I'm still virgin, so it's not possible that I've gotten HIV or something," he replied rather pointedly. Marik stared at him with wide eyes, then burst out laughing.

"You're kidding! You're still a virgin?" he asked. Malik blushed, looking away. "I've probably done twenty different guys in the last month!" He removed his sunglasses for a moment to wipe away tears of humor. "Gods…that's just…man, I'd think that someone would at least blow you…" Malik narrowed his eyes at him.

"Well, unlike you, you pervert, my life doesn't revolve around sex. And unlike you, I'm an artist. I don't care for such things," he replied. Marik ignored him, still laughing.

"Malik, you should be ashamed! Someone out there wants you, and you're not giving 'em anything. Anyway, how's everything going?" he asked. Malik sighed.

"Pretty bad, actually," he replied.

"Because you're still virgin," Marik said, grinning. Malik glared. "Oh, fine. Continue."

"Anyway, yesterday someone offered me a job in advertising. He'd seen my work, and we were supposed to meet this morning, but the secretary wouldn't let me in," Malik said.

"Because she saw your virgin aura," Marik chimed in again. Malik glared again, and Marik smiled innocently.

"Anyway…she wouldn't let me in because I was carrying a weapon," Malik continued.

"Your virgin dick, you mean!" Marik laughed, and Malik walked over to him and hit him on the head with his fist.

"Shut up," he growled. Ryou snickered quietly, and Malik sat down once again.

"I was carrying this," he said, and picked up the scythe. Marik blinked, raising an eyebrow and rubbing his head.

"How can you not get in trouble for carrying that thing around? It's fucking huge!" he said.

"I know, I know. But I didn't know I was carrying it," Malik replied softly.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Marik said, rolling his eyes. Malik glared at him again.

"I swear that I didn't know," he insisted.

"How can you not know?" Marik asked. "That's a dangerous weapon that's bigger than you are tall!" Malik shifted uncomfortably.

"I know," he muttered. "But…Death gave it to me. He told me to take it. So…I'm the new Death. Maybe I just carried it because of that." Marik stared.

"Impossible," he whispered, and pulled off his sunglasses. "That's absolutely impossible! Death doesn't exist! I mean, it does, but it's not actually a…a spirit or something!"

That was when Malik disappeared.

TBC

Mew: Dun-dun-dunnn.

Draiku: You know how in those Skittles ads, when the guy suggests that the rainbow isn't real, he falls off? Well, I'm worried that Mew was inspired by that and made Malik disappear.

Mew: Maybe I did. –shrug- You'll have to wait a week to find out.

Yoko: Thanks for reading, everyone! Give us your thoughts on this in a review, please!


	3. Chapter 3

Mew: Sorry if this seems a bit late. My sister's spelling bee was tonight, and I had to study for a Spanish test. Anyway, enjoy! I don't have much else to say here, actually. Draiku and Yoko aren't here at the moment, so. Yeah. Read!

Disclaimer: Mew Draiku doesn't own anything. -emo cry-

Scythe

Chapter 3

Malik appeared in front of a man walking down the street, holding his two children's hands and smiling. He blinked, and gasped when he noticed the scythe glowing an angry red color.

"He was supposed to die yesterday!" a furious-sounding voice hissed.

"He's supposed to be dead! Do your job!" another snarled. Malik looked around fearfully, and suddenly saw two red-eyed demons glaring at him. One was rather skinny and black. It wore a mask made from the skull of some horned demon. The other was a chubby, dark red one with large, yellowed fangs that protruded from its lower jaw.

"Wh-what are you?" Malik whispered.

"We are Pain and Suffering," the red one said. "I am Pain. He is Suffering." It bared its teeth at him. "Now do your job!" Malik stared at the man and his two children, then at the two demons.

"I can't," he whispered. "I can't just kill someone like that!"

"Do it!" the two roared. "If you don't do your job right, you'll be sent to Oblivion!" Malik cringed, and the scythe slipped. It fell, and seemed to slice the man's spirit in half. The man wasn't physically harmed, but Malik could see that his soul was in agony.

Pain and Suffering cackled, then spiraled towards the man. They entered his body, just as he was crossing the street.

"No," Malik muttered. "No!"

The three walked across the street, when suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a car came speeding at them. The man gasped, and shoved his children out of the way, but it was too late for him. The car smacked into him with such force that he was tossed high into the air. He landed with a sickening-sounding crunch and died. The two demons spiraled out of him, and disappeared. Malik fell to his knees, sobbing.

"No," he whispered. "No, no, no…"

He shimmered and reappeared in Ryou's living room once again, clutching his scythe.

"Where is he??!" demanded a furious Marik as he lifted Ryou up by the collar and pinned him against the wall. "What have you done to him??!" Bakura was trying to pull Marik away, but he couldn't do much.

"Marik!" Malik quickly said. "Let Ryou go!" Marik gasped, dropping Ryou to the ground. He rushed over to Malik worriedly.

"Where the hell did you go??!" he demanded, gripping his shoulders as Bakura helped Ryou up. Malik looked away from his brother's intense gaze.

"I…I killed someone," he whispered. "Oh…gods…"

Malik sobbed and threw his arms around Marik's neck.

"It's alright…" Marik murmured softly. "Just don't think about it…" Inside, he was stunned.

It was true. Malik had become Death. It didn't seem possible, but it was true. Here he was, standing and actually comforting the new Death: His own younger brother. It shouldn't have been possible; he didn't want it to be possible. Yet it was happening.

"He was just taking his kids for a walk!" Malik sobbed. "He even gave his life for them! Why did he have to die, Marik??! Why??!" Marik clutched him tightly, trying to comprehend all this himself.

"I…I don't know," he murmured. Malik shivered and buried his face in Marik's mane of hair.

"I don't want to be Death," he whispered.

"Can you quit or something?" Marik suggested. Malik shook his head.

"I don't know," he hissed. "They…they said that if I didn't do my job correctly, I'd be sent to Oblivion." Marik blinked.

"Who's they?" he asked.

"Pain and Suffering. Two demons," Malik whispered. Marik held him tightly for a long while, then Malik pulled away. "I can't believe this. I just want to be an artist, not a mass-murderer." He looked down at the floor depressingly. Marik put two hands on his shoulders again.

"Malik, don't worry. We'll find a way out of this, I mean it," he said in his stern voice. Malik looked up at him and nodded, wiping a tear away. Marik hugged him again, holding him tightly for a second longer. "Take a break for a moment. Like, lounge around or take a nap," he suggested, pulling away. Malik nodded and Marik looked to Ryou. "Ryou. Do you have a guest room for my brother?" he asked. Ryou nodded, giving him the directions to the room. Marik escorted his sibling to the room, then came back a moment later. He sat down with his head lowered and his knuckles pressed against his forehead.

"How am I going to do this?" he whispered. "How am I going to help him so he doesn't have to be Death?" Ryou frowned and sat next to him, gently stringing an arm over his shoulders.

"Don't worry—we're all going to help him, Marik. I admit that I don't know how, but I'll help him somehow," he said softly. Marik smiled slightly, looking up at him.

"Thanks, Ryou," he said. "And…if this isn't too much to ask, is it alright if Malik stays here a while, or at least until he's back to normal?" he asked, frowning with concern. "He doesn't live in much of a home—and I don't want him to be alone during all this." Ryou nodded.

"You're welcome to stay as well. I understand that you're from the United States, so feel free to stay as long as you'd like," he said. Marik smiled gratefully.

"Thanks again," he murmured. "I have some suitcases in the car. I'll go get those."

Meanwhile, Malik was lying in his bed, face down in the pillow. He sighed and turned over, staring at the ominous-looking scythe just next to his bed. He wished that he could contact Death—or at least the previous one, the skeleton he'd seen in his room. Maybe then he could beg to become normal again? Then he thought, maybe Death wanted to stop being Death? He sighed again and sat up.

"I want an apple," he mumbled, bringing his knees up and resting his forehead on them. Suddenly, he heard something shift on the blanket. He blinked, looking up, and saw Pain and Suffering sitting on the bed. "What do you two want?" he asked lazily.

"Master," Suffering said, bowing to him, "we would like to apologize for our actions earlier today. We understand that you are new, but if you hadn't killed that man, we would all be sentenced to Oblivion." Pain scowled and spat a small fireball in distaste. It landed on the sheets, then fizzled and died.

"I don't," Pain said with a sneer, baring his pointed teeth at Malik.

"Whatever. I don't care," Malik said in a groan and lied back. Suffering flapped over to him and sat crossed-legged on the pillow, looking at him expectantly.

"Master, you seem to be ill. What may I do for you?" he asked.

"Stop kissing my ass and get me an apple," Malik mumbled, turning so his face was buried in the pillow once again. He heard flapping once again, and then silence.

"I liked our old Master better," he heard Pain mumble.

"Well, don't blame me, you little snot. I'm not the one who wanted to be Death," Malik growled. He sat up and glared at Pain. "How about we put that little mouth of yours to use. I know that thousands upon thousands of people die each day, every minute, but why was I called upon to kill that one guy?"

"You only kill important people, like the Pope, governmental leaders, and celebrities, if they're very well known. Think Brad Pitt or Prince, but not someone not well-known. It's based on the number of people who know about them. Since many people in America watch movies, then you'll usually kill American celebrities. However, you kill major governmental leaders no matter how unpopular they are, but not a small-town mayor," Pain replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Who was that guy I killed today?" Malik asked.

"Some senate member of the US. I dunno," Pain said carelessly, flipping his pointed tail around.

"So I don't have to work every day?" Malik asked.

"If you're lucky. You usually have to kill one or two people a day, but sometimes more," Pain said. "Depending on the situation, of course."

"And what is this Oblivion you keep mentioning?"

"Black void. Nothingness. No thought or feelings. The works," Pain replied. Suffering suddenly came flapping back in, holding an apple bigger than he was.

"Here is your apple, Master," he said, dropping it into Malik's hand.

"Thanks," Malik said dully, and took a bite out of it. "Are there more demons like you?"

"Tch! Of course there are! We're just the leaders!" Pain said with an evil grin. Malik paused a moment.

"And can anyone else see you?"

"Of course, if they know Death," Suffering answered. "In other words, anyone who has a good relationship with you shall see us. That is why they can see the scythe."

"Then why could that lady see the scythe?" Malik asked.

"She had a very weak form of the sixth sense. She can only see the weapons of fantastical beings such as yourself, but not us," Suffering explained.

"I see. But Bakura just met me today," Malik said. "Why can he see the scythe, then?"

"He has the full sixth sense," Pain said. "Isn't it obvious? You should have seen his aura when he saw us flying in. It shot up like a firework!"

"So that's why he was speaking of Death and Satan and stuff! He could see them!" Malik said, eyes wide.

"Yes, but he doesn't realize that other people can't see us. That is why he was sent to the asylum. We've spoken with him before, as had the previous Death. In fact, we made an agreement while he was in the eighth grade. If he didn't speak or write down what he wanted to say for the rest of his life, he would die a painless death," Suffering said. Malik's eyes widened.

"Then…why did he try to commit suicide?" he whispered.

"He couldn't stand not being able to speak with someone for so long," Pain replied. Malik gritted his teeth.

"You two are little bastards!" he said with a glare. "Because you made that deal with him, he would have died a painful death anyway! How could you do that??!"

"It was not us who made the pact," Suffering said. "It was the previous Death."

"That bastard!" Malik growled. "Bakura shouldn't have to stay silent for so long!"

"Well, the pact is permanent. Only the previous Death can make it so he can speak and not have a painful death," Suffering said quickly. "Also, you cannot speak of this with him." Malik cursed in a hiss and fell back to the pillow.

TBC

Mew: Well, now you know why Bakura doesn't talk. -grin- Hope that clears up some stuff for you guys. ANYWAY! I'll take Yoko's job tonight. Thanks for reading, guys! Don't forget to leave a review!


	4. Chapter 4

Mew: By popular demand (not), here's chapter four! –grin-

Draiku: Pathetic.

Mew: Shut up. –sobs-

Disclaimer: Mew Draiku doesn't own Yu-Gi-Oh. She's made this very clear in the past, but somehow it just can't get through 4Kids' heads. –emocry-

Scythe

Chapter 4

"Did you hear Malik speaking to someone?" Marik asked, sitting in the living room with Ryou and Bakura. Ryou shook his head.

"No. Maybe he's talking in his sleep?" he said. Marik shrugged and sighed, lying down and resting his head against Bakura's lap.

"I don't want to disturb him or anything, but do you think I should check on him?" he asked, looking to Ryou.

"He's had a long day. Let's let him be for now," he said quietly. Bakura glared down at Marik before resting his chin in his hand again and looking away. Marik just smirked up at him.

"Come on, 'Kura. Can I see you smile? You'd look better," he said with a grin. Ryou rolled his eyes and leaned back on his chair, ignoring them. "Wait, never mind. You'd look absolutely beautiful if you were panting, lying on your back, blushing, and had your legs up." Bakura glared again, a blush covering his face, and scowled. Marik sighed and removed his sunglasses, wrapped an arm around Bakura's neck, and pulled himself up to kiss his lips. Bakura's eyes widened and he shoved Marik off so the man fell in a heap on the floor. He glared again and brought his legs up to keep Marik from lying on his lap again.

Marik sighed and sat next to him with his arms around his shoulders.

"Ryou, is there any way into your cold brother's heart?" he asked dramatically, while peering at Bakura, who did his best to ignore him.

"To tell you the truth, I don't know," Ryou said with a sigh. "I know that he likes somewhat morbid stuff, though. Blood, for one. He used to talk about it a lot before eighth grade."

"Oh really?" Marik said with a grin. "Is your brother a little masochist, then? Or a sadist? Because I'm more of an S, but I could be the M if he really wanted it." Ryou rolled his eyes again. Bakura suddenly got up and headed for the kitchen. He came back holding a pot with a box of spaghetti and a can of sauce, along with some parmesan cheese, then handed it to Ryou.

"I take it you're hungry," Ryou said dully. Bakura nodded once and sat down in the easy chair. "Fine. Since you're the guest, I'll cook this. Marik, watch over him, will you?"

"I'd be delighted to," Marik said, licking his lips. Ryou went back to the kitchen and started up the stove, while Marik grinned and sat in the chair right next to Bakura's. "I take it that you like Italian?" he said. "If you come live with me, I could feed you the finest of food there is. I own a very large mansion, with several cooks who each specialize in ethnic foods. My Italian chef is marvelous—he refuses to make spaghetti, because it's too simple. Of course, if you want a very fancy sauce with it, he'll make it, but only if you want good sauce. How does that sound?" Bakura just looked at him apathetically, then looked away. "Oh, come on," Marik whined. "I could give you your own room if you came, but you'd have to kiss me, of course. And some other things. No—many other things, including—well, you get the idea. You don't even have to talk to me if you don't want to! I enjoy speaking with—um, at you, even if you don't answer!" Bakura looked at him again, this time raising an eyebrow, then shook his head and looked away. "Ugh. I sound like a desperate virgin here," Marik groaned. He stood up, walked in front of Bakura, and picked the younger man up. Then he sat down and cradled him in his lap. Bakura just glared indignantly.

"Come on, Bakura. I could make you so happy," he said, taking off his sunglasses to reveal his puppy-dog eyes. Bakura shook his head again and looked away. Marik sighed and put his sunglasses back on, then hugged Bakura gently. Bakura sighed almost silently, and rolled his eyes, but didn't move. Marik smiled very slightly, nuzzling Bakura's neck. Bakura pulled away slightly and looked into Marik's eyes dully with an expression that clearly told him to get off. Marik only shrugged and smirked innocently at him. Bakura rolled his eyes again and Marik hugged him, closing his eyes and hooking his chin over his shoulder. He pulled away again, and this time, Marik didn't bother to see what he "said" with his expression. He tenderly kissed Bakura's lips, closing his eyes and savoring their feel. Marik opened his eyes to see Bakura looking at him, anything but emotion showing in his gaze.

"Do you just not care anymore?" he asked curiously. Bakura sighed silently and looked away again, that same, dull expression on his face.

"I finished the pasta!" Ryou said from the kitchen. Bakura got up and walked into the next room, and Marik followed. "I put some in some containers for Malik when he wakes up, by the way. Just tell him that they're in the fridge if I'm busy or not here," Ryou added. Marik nodded.

"I will," he said. Bakura stared at his plate and picked at the food for a moment, then sighed again. He took two very small bites of it, and then pushed the plate away. By now Ryou and Marik had finished, and Ryou sighed.

"I guess you're done," he said, a little disappointed.

"I'll eat it. It's best not to waste such good food," Marik said, stopping Ryou from taking Bakura's plate. Ryou smiled.

"Thank you, Marik," he said. "I need to call someone—I'll be back in a moment." He left the kitchen and Marik smirked, picking up the fork Bakura had been using. He trailed his tongue over and around it, then began eating. Bakura stared a moment, obviously confused, as Marik sucked and licked the bunch of spaghetti on the fork. 'What are you doing?' Bakura seemed to say.

"Isn't it obvious?" Marik said with a grin, as he removed his sunglasses. "I'm trying to seduce you." Bakura looked away again, emotionless as he had been before. Marik sighed and gave up, eating it normally, and cleared the plate. "Why didn't you eat, Bakura?" he said, though he knew that Ryou's brother wouldn't answer. "You're so light. You really should have eaten something." Bakura displayed no reaction, and Marik lifted his shirt carefully. "Sheesh, I can see your ribs and everything. You're skinnier than Malik!" Bakura got up and sat opposite to Marik so he wouldn't touch him again, just as Malik walked into the room.

"Is there any more pasta left?" he asked, clutching the scythe in his left hand. Pain and Suffering were perched upon it, sitting side-by-side and looking at Bakura, who just stared back.

"Yeah, in the fridge. Who are those little guys?" Marik asked, pointing at the two demons.

"Oh, this is Pain, the red one, and this is Suffering, the black one. Pain's a bit of a jerk, and Suffering's a suck-up," Malik said.

"Aw, shut up, stupid idiot," Pain hissed.

"I only want to please you, Master Malik," Suffering said.

"You see what I mean?" Malik said dully. "They really are a pain in the ass, since they follow me everywhere now."

"I see," Marik mumbled. "Even during sex? That would be awkward."

"Yeah, I think so."

"We could leave if you want us to, Master," Suffering said.

"Not me," Pain said with an evil grin. Suffering smacked him over the head.

"I deeply apologize for my coworker's manners," he said with a bow.

"Never mind," Malik said, holding his hand up to them and massaging his temples with the other. He walked over to the fridge and Pain and Suffering flapped over to the table and sat in front of Marik.

"You must be Master Malik's sibling. You look alike," Suffering said.

"Yeah, I am," Marik said dully. "Are you two siblings?"

"No, of course not," Pain said with a sneer. "That kiss-ass isn't even nearly related to me."

"And if that fat, ignorant, lazy bastard over there was related to me, I would kill myself," Suffering said, glaring back.

"I'm not that fat!" Pain whined.

"Just shut up, both of you," Marik said, rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses. "Malik, I feel sorry for you."

"Thanks," Malik said, taking the pasta out and eating it from the container.

"Master Marik, sir, may I ask why you wear such glasses? It isn't sunny nor bright in here," Suffering said, while Pain made a mouth with a hand and made it "talk" while he spoke.

"They make me look sexy," Marik replied with a grin.

"Do you never take them off?" Suffering continued.

"Only to look at 'Kura here," Marik said, wrapping an arm around Bakura's shoulders and tugging him closer. Bakura did nothing to stop him, or even seem annoyed. He just sat there, staring ahead like he always did. Pain and Suffering stared at him.

"You have a peculiar brother, Master Malik," Suffering commented.

"I know," Malik replied dully, and sat down to eat. He sighed and looked to the two demons. "Is there any way I can stop being Death?" he asked. Suffering shook his head.

"There is no way. Once you are Death, you must stay Death for 1000 years, then you can appoint a new one," he said. "The previous Death stayed Death for a very long time, as you can probably guess."

"I see," Malik said, and sighed again, sadly this time.

"Well, don't worry. 1000 years fly by very quickly, Master Malik," the demon said with a grin.

"For you, maybe. But not for us humans. We only live to about 70 or 80 on average," Malik said, and held his head in his hands. "Fuck."

"You have very short lifetimes," Suffering commented. "But do not fear. The scythe keeps you alive. The previous Death was also human, and he quite liked the idea."

"So I'm gonna end up like him? A skeleton wearing a hooded robe?" Malik asked. The demons nodded. "Double-fuck."

"Tch! You're stupid. You should be grateful that you're outliving everyone. I'd sure be," Pain sneered.

"That's because you're an insolent, friendless demon. Unlike you, there are many people I care about. Marik, though he is a jerk, Ryou, and Bakura," Malik said.

"Aw. You finally admitted that you like me," Marik said, grinning evilly.

"Let me repeat myself. 'Marik, though he is a jerk,'" Malik said, gritting his teeth.

"Whatever." Marik just shrugged, smirked, and stroked Bakura's arm. Bakura sighed, ignoring him.

"I'm going back to bed. Tell Ryou that the food was great," Malik said, getting up and leaving the table, carrying the scythe lazily. Pain and Suffering followed him, flying towards the scythe and landing on the bladed end. Malik ignored them, stopped in front of his room, threw the scythe in, and flopped over onto the bed.

"Poor Malik," Ryou said, stepping into the room. "I'm really worried about him." He held a wine bottle. "I don't usually drink, so do you want some?" he asked, offering it to Marik.

"No, I've been sober three months now," Marik said, politely refusing it. Ryou blinked, and Marik noticed the reaction. "I'm in an alcoholic's program, and I decided to go cold turkey on the stuff. It was hard at first, but I'm making good progress. I don't want to ruin my record now." He smirked slightly, sitting back in his seat.

"Oh, I see. You're doing well, if you totally quit it," Ryou said, smiling as he put the wine in the fridge.

"Thanks. What were you saying about Malik, anyway?" Marik asked.

"Well, first he was…um…" Ryou cut off.

"A starving artist. Just say that. Makes things a world simpler," Marik said dully.

"Right. Um, a starving artist, and now he needs to kill people or he'll disappear." Ryou sighed and sat down.

"Malik said that the food was great, by the way. Anyway, do you like him?" Marik asked, raising an eyebrow at Ryou. The white-haired male was stunned for a moment.

"Excuse me?" he said politely.

"Do. You. Like. Him?" Marik repeated.

"I've never heard their music…"

"No, not the band. Malik. As in, do you like Malik?" Marik said, rolling his eyes. Ryou was obviously trying to avoid giving the answer. That made it obvious that he did in fact have a crush on Malik.

"He's a friend," Ryou said, coughing and folding his hands on the table.

"Yeah, right. Come on, Ryou! Tons of people have had crushes on me before! And I've interrogated countless others! Because you're trying to avoid giving a straight answer, it's clear that you have some sort of crush on him!" Marik said, frustrated. Ryou faltered and bit his lower lip.

"Y-you won't tell him, right?" he whispered, looking at Marik and blushing.

"I won't tell the band, of course. I don't even like their music," Marik said with a playful grin. "Of course I won't tell Malik. I'm not heartless." He looked to Bakura. "Did you hear that? He likes my brother. What are the chances?" he said, grinning still. Bakura raised and eyebrow at him, sighed, and shook his head with annoyance. "So, since when have you liked him?" Marik asked, looking at Ryou again.

"Well…when I first saw him, I thought that he was, you know, good-looking. It took me a while to realize that when I stared at him in class I wasn't just admiring him. I was lusting for him." Ryou blushed heavily.

"If you were lusting for him, wouldn't you notice first thing?" Marik asked, raising an eyebrow. Ryou blushed even more.

"Y-you know what I mean! I wasn't…I wasn't having that during class! I just had all these dreams after I'd stare at him. Dreams that weren't…well, usual. When I finally met him, he was the most wonderful person I'd ever known. I felt lucky to know him. He was everything I looked for," Ryou finished, and looked away.

"Sounds as if this is your first time telling anyone," Marik said.

"Well, I wrote in my journal about it, but yes. This is my first time actually telling someone," Ryou explained. "I just couldn't tell my parents. They were under so much stress at the time I figured out that I loved him, and I didn't want them to be angry or something."

"But doesn't it feel better to get it out?" Marik asked with a smirk. Ryou blinked.

"Y-yes, actually," he mumbled. He smiled slightly. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me," Marik said with another grin. There was a pause.

"Do you know when the right time to tell him would be?" Ryou asked suddenly. Marik blinked.

"Not now. If I were you, I'd admittedly tackle him down to the ground and screw him senseless, but since you are the angel to my devil, then that's obviously not the right procedure to take. Right now, Malik needs someone to lean on. Help him when he asks for it. Ask him if he wants to talk. Things like that. Also, don't seem overly-worried. From my experience, Malik hates that. Tell him that you are worried about him, but don't overdo it. If he comes back from having to kill someone, be there for him. He'll need someone until we get this all sorted out," Marik explained. "Also, try not to blush or anything around him. He'll just get embarrassed and that will complicate things."

"Alright. Thanks again," Ryou said gratefully.

"What'd I tell you before? Anyway, I gotta get to bed. Jet lag, you know. Do you have another guest room or something?" Marik asked hopefully. Ryou frowned.

"Sorry, but Malik's in the only one. I don't know how you feel about sharing it, but…" he cut off.

"It's alright. I annoy him to no end, so I'll let him have the room to himself," Marik said, chuckling.

"The couch does fold out into a bed, though. Would you mind sleeping there?" Ryou asked.

"Not at all. And Bakura? I'm sure he wants to know where to sleep, too."

"Well, since he can't be left alone at any time, he'd better sleep on the couch with you," Ryou said. Marik grinned.

"Great!" he said. "Come, my love, to the couch!" He grabbed Bakura around the shoulders and paraded into the living room with him. Ryou just had to smile slightly. He hoped that Marik could make Bakura feel better, and maybe even make him speak again. The man definitely had the potential, if not the ability.

TBC

Mew: Oh-ho-ho-ho. I quite liked the ending of this chapter, wouldn't you agree?

Draiku: One of your better endings, I guess. –shrug- Mediocre, but better.

Mew: Shut up.

Yoko: Thanks for reading, everyone! As always, remember to review!


	5. Chapter 5

Scythe

Chapter 5

Malik was awoken by something shaking his shoulder.

"Get up! You need to do your job again!" said a voice. Malik turned over, ignoring it.

"Go 'way," he muttered. The shaking happened again, harder this time.

"Hurry up or we'll be banished! Lazy idiot!" Malik finally opened his eyes and sat up, shaking two small creatures from his shoulder.

"Speak for yourself, fatty," he snarled at Pain. The demon looked insulted, but Malik ignored him. "What do I have to do again?" He looked to Suffering.

"You need to do your job, Master Malik," the demon said, standing up straight. Malik shivered and clutched the first thing closest to him: His scythe. Suffering perked up a bit. "I'm glad to see that you're eager," he commented with a grin.

"I'm not!" Malik whined. "Let's just get it over with." He held his face in his hands and they were teleported. Malik stood in front of a very, very important man in the United States government.

The US President.

The man was currently giving a speech about the economy and debt issues.

"He is scheduled to die in approximately thirty seconds. Prepare yourself, Master Malik," Suffering said, pulling a silver pocket watch out from seemingly nowhere. Malik nodded. "Now!" Suffering announced. Malik lifted the scythe, squeezed his eyes shut, and severed the man's soul. Instantly, the president of the US clutched his chest and collapsed over. The media swarmed in like insects, blocking the medics. He died seconds later.

"Heart attack. Ouch," Pain commented dully. "He should've watched his fat intake."

"As if you do!" Malik yelled, holding his head in his hands. Everyone ignored him; they couldn't see him. At least he wouldn't be a convict.

"Master Malik, technically speaking, you didn't kill him," Suffering said, looking up at Malik through the eye sockets of the mask. "Yes, you did take his life, but you enabled his soul to pass on. You're actually helping these people." Malik looked up.

"By killing them?" he whispered.

"You didn't kill him. His heart attack was the cause of death. You just freed his soul from his body," the demon explained. "You're only doing what is natural."

"It feels wrong, though," Malik mumbled. "I hate this."

"I understand. Let's return to Ryou's home," Suffering said, and bowed. Malik nodded and he was suddenly in the guest room again. He rested the scythe against the wall, crawled into bed, and closed his eyes.

-

"I'm bored," Marik complained the next day. Bakura was sitting as far away as possible from him, which wasn't really possible, considering that Marik had a death grip on him. Malik sighed.

"You slept with Bakura all night. Shouldn't you be glad?" he asked. Marik sighed.

"Normally, yes, but tonight he wouldn't let me take off his clothes, so I'm bored," he said. Bakura squirmed to get away. "Oh, stop it. Just because I woke up with my hand on your crotch doesn't mean that you have to do that. And I had no control over myself!" Bakura glared at him. "I bet you're accusing me of making an excuse! Well, when you're asleep, it just kind of happens. Especially when you're dreaming of the person you're sharing the bed with." Bakura just looked away, obviously annoyed. "Aw, Bakura! Don't be like that!" Marik whined and hugged him. Bakura ignored him.

"You're insane," Malik commented. "He's never going to speak to you. Give up." Bakura cringed a little, fisting a hand.

"You know, Malik, when he's right in front of you, I'd expect you to be polite. Just because he doesn't talk doesn't mean that he's void of feelings. I'd be pretty damned pissed if you said that about me. Anyway, that's Bakura's decision. I respect it," Marik said sternly, pulling away from Bakura but still clutching the man's hand. Bakura's hand loosened, and he relaxed again. "Besides, I love him. I'm never going to give up." Marik smiled and pulled Bakura closer.

"Whatever," Malik said dully. Ryou stepped into the room, yawning. He was still in his pajamas.

"Morning," he mumbled.

"Good morning, Ryou," Malik and Marik greeted.

"Sorry I slept in. I was studying the file of a patient of mine who's about as complex as learning calculus at three. Anyway, what do you guys want for breakfast? I'd be glad to make it," he said and smiled.

"Just eggs, please," Malik said. Marik turned to Bakura and looked him over.

"Eggs, bacon, and a side of toast," he said. "As for me, I'd just like cereal."

"Wait, you mean Bakura wants the eggs, bacon, and toast?" Ryou asked, raising an eyebrow. Marik nodded.

"Yeah. Something just tells me that he wants that," Marik said dully.

"Okay then. I'll get started. How many eggs for Malik and Bakura?"

"Two for me," Malik replied.

"Bakura would like three with some pepper sprinkled on them," Marik said after looking into Bakura's eyes.

"You sound so sure of yourself. But don't blame me if he doesn't eat it," Ryou said with a shrug and walked into the kitchen. Malik looked to Marik, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you have ESP or something?" he asked. Marik blinked and shook his head.

"I don't think so," he said. "Think something at me and I'll repeat it, then we'll see."

"Okay." Malik thought, I wish that I wasn't the new Death, at Marik.

"You want to have sex with the hottest person in the world," Marik said. Malik shook his head.

"You don't have ESP," he said. Marik just had to laugh.

A while later, Ryou called them into the kitchen. The three sat at the table, their food awaiting them. Bakura definitely seemed to enjoy his food, since he finished before everyone else. He got up and headed towards the living room.

"Bakura, you can't be alone. Could you wait in here until one of us finishes?" Ryou said. Bakura paused and sat down in his chair again. Marik gulped down the rest of his cereal.

"Alright, done! Thanks, Ryou, it was great," he said. "Now, where were you headed? Living room, right?" Marik dragged Bakura into the living room and sat on the couch with him. "We'll just leave our younger brothers alone. You are older than Ryou, right?" he asked. Bakura just pointed at a photograph sitting underneath a lamp on a side table. Marik picked it up and looked at it. It showed Bakura sitting with his younger brother on the swing set, laughing and grinning.

"Aww. You look so cute in this picture," Marik said, smiling tenderly. "You'd look a lot better if you smiled, you know. Everyone does." He set it down and looked back to Bakura, who was staring at the ceiling. Marik sat down again and gently tugged him closer, lying down with Bakura on top of him. He ran his hand through Bakura's hair gently, stroking him tenderly. Bakura closed his eyes and soon fell asleep. Marik smiled at him and peered into the kitchen.

He saw Ryou gazing at Malik somewhat dreamily as the blond boy put away the dishes. Marik smirked a bit. He was almost a bit tempted to yell at Ryou to stop staring at Malik, just so Malik would know, but he held back.

Meanwhile, Malik stood in front of the kitchen sink, drinking a glass of water and gazing out the window.

Should I tell him? he wondered to himself. He peered at Ryou's reflection in the glass, wishing that he could read his thoughts. Pain and Suffering were sitting on the table, chatting with Ryou, who seemed a little freaked-out at the thought of two evil demons sitting right in front of him. Malik almost chuckled at Ryou's expression, but held back.

No, I'd better not, Malik thought finally, and sighed, taking another sip.

"You're quiet all of a sudden, Malik. Is something wrong?" Ryou asked in that gentle voice of his. Malik paused a moment.

"I dunno," he said, quickly applying the techniques he'd learned in acting school. "I'm just a little depressed about…well, about having to kill people. Suffering told me that I was just enabling them to move on, but it still feels wrong."

"I see," Ryou murmured. "I wish that I could say something like, 'I understand how you feel,' but I can't, because I don't." He chuckled slightly. "That's usually the excuse I use to get out of comforting someone, I admit. But really, it must be hard being Death."

"Yeah. I don't want to get used to it, either. Pain thinks that I should, but…it doesn't suit me." Malik gave a sigh.

"I agree with you. You're more of an artist, if you ask me," Ryou commented.

"Thanks," Malik said, smiling slightly and looking to him. Ryou just smiled back.

"It's the truth," he said. Malik took another drink of water.

It'll just have to wait, he decided and held back another sigh of disappointment


	6. Chapter 6

Mew: Whoo. Sorry this chapter was late; I forgot to upload it on Friday.

Draiku: Yeah, you'd better be. -pout-

Disclaimer: Mew Draiku sadly owns nothing to her name because she is secretly a crazed hobo with a pet ball of lint.

Scythe

Chapter 6

Ryou was out on errands the next day, while Malik was at his apartment, gathering art materials he could use while he stayed at Ryou's house. Marik and Bakura were left alone. Bakura insisted on not leaving the bathroom, so Marik had to stay with him.

"I know that you're doing this to annoy me, Bakura. Now stop sitting on the toilet. I need to go," Marik said, pouting. Bakura just gazed at him, a hint of an amused glint in his eyes. He sat back, crossing his arms over his chest, and continued to sit on the toilet. Of course, the lid was down, so he wasn't using it—he was just preventing Marik from using it.

"Come on, Bakura. Let's at least get out of here. I'll pick you up around the waist and throw you out if you keep it up!" Marik said, glaring as though to threaten Bakura. The glint in Bakura's eyes only grew. Marik sighed, and suddenly, the phone rang. He cursed in a whisper.

"Dammit, Bakura! Come on! Ryou specifically told me not to leave you alone, and he told me to answer the phone and take messages while he was gone! Just come on!" Marik was close to begging. "I'll do anything, okay? I'll suck on your dick, I'll let you totally dominate me, hell, I'll even be your love slave and cater to every fetish you might have! Just come on!" Bakura, of course, made no reply. The phone kept ringing, and Marik gritted his teeth.

"Damn. I need to get that. Bakura, I'll be back in, like, thirty seconds. Don't. Do. Anything. Stupid," he said, taking Bakura's shoulders. Bakura just averted his gaze, and Marik frowned. "I'll be right back." He ran out of the room and picked up the phone. He sighed, taking off his sunglasses to massage his temples.

"Hello? What??! John? How the hell did you figure out where I was?" Marik demanded into the phone, glaring. "Look, I don't have time, I really need to—what??! He quit??! But…oh, fuck. Damn, make it quick, I don't have a lot of time!"

After about ten minutes, John finished explaining why someone in Marik's business had quit. Marik was nervous the entire time, worried about Bakura. But then again, Bakura wasn't that depressed, right? He wouldn't kill himself just like that!

"Okay, alright. Bye, John, see ya." Marik quickly hung up the phone and ran to the bathroom. He let out a cry of both shock and surprise at the sight in front of him.

"Bakura!"

The man was dripping blood from self-inflicted wounds all over his chest, stomach, arms, and legs. In his hand he held a small, bloody razor blade, obviously taken from one of the razors in the cupboard.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it," Marik hissed under his breath, hurrying over to Bakura. He grasped his shoulders and glared at him. "Why did you do this??! I told you not to do anything stupid!" Marik yelled. Bakura just gazed at him emotionlessly. "Dammit, why, Bakura, why??!" Marik grabbed the razor, accidentally cutting his right palm in the process, and threw it into the trash can. He quickly started a warm bath, holding Bakura's hand in his own firmly. After it was filled, he carefully picked up Bakura and put him into it. He washed his wounds with a type of herbal medicine in the cabinet, and glared all the while.

"Damn it, Bakura! I leave for ten minutes and—and look! You try to fucking kill yourself! Over what? Nothing! Don't you dare throw away your life like that, especially when I'm around! I love you, Bakura, you know that! You can't just…you can't just try to leave me!" Marik yelled, and rambled on about how stupid it was. Bakura seemed not to be paying attention, but he blinked when he saw tears running down Marik's face. He didn't say anything, nor did he make any sort of movement. He just stared at them.

Thankfully, none of the wounds were large enough to have to be stitched shut. Marik bandaged him up tightly, covering each wound. The ending result made Bakura look like a mummy, wrapped not in linen, but medical gauze. Marik held him for a long time, sobbing. He cursed, sometimes calling Bakura names or insulting him. But he still cried, and finally, Ryou and Malik arrived. They saw the bandages around Bakura, and were stunned. Marik explained what had happened, apologizing profusely to Ryou. Of course, Ryou forgave him, thankful that Bakura didn't try and drown himself or slash his neck instead.

Marik sat away from Bakura the rest of the night. He sat silently, staring at the floor emotionlessly. Ryou continued to lecture Bakura about what he'd just done and how it hurt everyone around him, and why he shouldn't do it again. Of course, Bakura didn't seem to hear a word he said.

"I don't understand, Bakura. Why? What could have possibly upset you so badly as to do this to yourself? It was less than ten minutes. You shouldn't have done that," Ryou said, frowning at him. Bakura looked away, gazing at Marik through bleak eyes. The other man seemed pained, even with Malik trying to comfort him. Ryou looked up at Malik. "Well? What should we do?" he asked. Malik looked to the clock.

"It's late. We should go to bed. The rest would be good for all of us," he said, patting Marik's back. Marik sighed and looked to Bakura sadly.

The four of them went to their respective beds, and Marik didn't even try to hold Bakura that night.

-

Ryou had work the next day, and Malik was gone, apparently killing off several television stars in a shooting. Marik and Bakura were left alone, again. Marik didn't even try to speak to Bakura. The two just sat in the living room, silent. The only sounds were the constant, never-changing sounds of the clock ticking, and the occasional car driving by. Marik didn't really care if Bakura was alone or not, and sometimes went to the kitchen or the bathroom for a few minutes. He'd always check over Bakura when he came back, although.

Bakura went into the study upstairs and picked up a book to read. Marik stayed in the living room, and eventually wandered into the kitchen. An hour passed, and finally Bakura returned to the living room. He saw Marik sitting on the floor, his back to the wall. Surrounding him were empty cans that once held beer. Marik took a drink from the can resting in his hand, and sighed. Bakura gazed at him a long while, and frowned. He walked over to Marik and stood above him, staring down at him. Marik looked up through somewhat hazy eyes, and sighed again. Bakura sat down right next to him and took the half-full can from him. He put his hand over it and gazed expectantly at Marik, who frowned and nodded.

"Sh-shorry," he slurred in a soft voice. Bakura flung the can against the wall perpendicular to them, where it crashed and landed on the floor, spilling the drink everywhere. Marik leaned on Bakura's shoulder, crying softly and gripping his hand. Bakura didn't stop him, and even gently squeezed Marik's hand, as though he was attempting to comfort him. It worked, and Marik sighed and stopped crying slightly.

"I love y'," Marik said, and closed his eyes. They sat together like that for a long time, and finally, soft snores came from Marik's mouth. Bakura carefully picked him up and half-carried-half-dragged Marik to the couch, where he lied him down gently. He blanketed him, threw the beer cans into the recycle bin, and mopped up the mess he'd made when he'd flung the half-full can away. Then, he sat next to Marik on the floor, and gazed at his bandaged wrists. He carefully peeled away the bandages, revealing stitched cuts on each wrist. He found a pocketknife inside a drawer in the side table, and placed its blade onto his wrist.

But before he could make a cut, he blinked.

Bakura paused a long moment, the knife hovering over his wrist. The hand holding the knife quivered and shook, and finally he folded the knife up and returned it to its rightful place in the drawer. Bakura looked at Marik's sleeping form again, and gently took his hand within his own. Perhaps he was having second thoughts about suicide. Perhaps he wanted to do it alone later. No one could be sure.

-

Later that night, Malik appeared once again. The first thing he saw were several beer cans in the recycle bin, and he groaned. He knew that Marik was an alcoholic; he had been since he was a teen. Malik had been sure that Marik could make it over a year without alcohol, but his predictions ended up wrong, as always. At least Marik didn't get violent when he was drunk.

Malik walked into the living room and saw Marik and Bakura peacefully asleep, holding hands in their slumber. Malik just had to smile, even if he was angry at his brother. He did feel a little jealous, though. Marik was brave enough to admit his love to someone who probably wouldn't love him back. Malik was a coward when it came to love—he feared rejection more than anything in the world.

"Hey, Pain and Suffering," he said quietly, sitting in the easy chair. They looked to him. "Could you guys go back home, wherever that is? Just for a few days—you can come to me while I'm doing my 'job,' but I need some time alone."

"Yes, Master. We'd be glad to," Suffering said, bowing. Pain pouted.

"You don't appreciate us enough," he growled with a scowl.

"Anyway, Master, when you're ready for us to return, simply run your finger along the blunt edge of the scythe. We'll return to you immediately," Suffering said, ignoring Pain. They instantly disappeared, and Malik was left alone. He sighed and stared at one of the pictures of Ryou on the table. Most nights, even before he arrived here, he dreamt of Ryou. And most of those dreams were erotic, lust-filled dreams.

The front door opened, and Ryou stepped in.

"Well? Anything eventful happen between these two?" Ryou asked, thinking that Malik had been here all day. Malik laughed slightly.

"I just got back. There was a huge attack on all these really famous people. Some crazy guy who hated the media went after them," he said, and suddenly shivered and frowned. Ryou frowned as well and walked over to him. He sat next to him and put his hand on Malik's thigh.

"It must be hard," he murmured. Malik nodded, and placed his hand on Ryou's, squeezing it slightly. He blushed slightly, and dared to lean over and lean on Ryou.

"Sorry," he muttered, though Ryou didn't say a word, "I just kind of need a shoulder to lean on right now." Ryou nodded and smiled slightly, putting his arms around Malik's shoulders. After a moment, Malik and Ryou pulled away from each other, now just sitting on the couch.

"Hey, Ryou?" Malik mumbled.

"Yes?" Ryou replied.

"Would you get angry at me if I told you something?" Ryou blinked, confused.

"I suppose it depends," he said, rather dumbly.

"What if I told you that I loved you?" he asked, looking at Ryou through sad eyes. Ryou's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped.

"Wh-what?" he mumbled. Malik sighed, rather disappointedly.

"S-sorry," he muttered. He could picture his heart snapping and breaking into small pieces.

"Did you just say what I think you said?" Ryou asked, sounding rather hopeful. Malik blinked, and nodded. Ryou instantly threw his arms around Malik, grinning widely. Malik gasped, grabbing Ryou's arms, and looked to him.

"Ry-ryou?" he stammered, confused.

"I've wanted to hear those words since I met you!" Ryou cried, awaking Marik and Bakura. Malik grinned stupidly, and wrapped his own arms around Ryou. Marik, who was still slightly drunk, grinned in the same mannerism as Malik.

"Aww. Cute," he said, and promptly fell back asleep. Bakura stared at him a long while before climbing onto the couch and lying next to him. After Malik and Ryou had embraced for a while, they looked to Marik and Bakura. Malik clutched Ryou's hand tightly, smiling.

"You know," he said, and looked to Ryou, who looked back, "I think that Bakura likes Marik, but won't tell him." Ryou nodded in agreement.

"I know. Just look at them. Even when Marik tries to kiss Bakura, Bakura doesn't stop him anymore. And they make a nice couple," he said. Malik nodded back and kissed Ryou gently. Two puffs of red and black suddenly appeared in front of them, and Malik gave a slight groan.

"Master Malik," Suffering said, bowing to greet him, "we apologize for coming back before you called us, but I'm afraid that you must do your job." Malik sighed and looked to Ryou apologetically.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, taking Ryou's hands in his own, "but I have to." Ryou nodded solemnly.

"I understand. Be careful, though," he warned, though he really didn't need to.

"I promise you that I'll find a way out of being Death. Then I'll spend as much time with you as you want," Malik whispered.

"Hey! Slowpoke!" Pain yelled. Malik ignored him.

"Thank you. Even if you do stay Death for the rest of our lives, I won't leave you," Ryou replied simply. Malik kissed him again.

"Thanks." He let go of Ryou's hands, and replaced them with the handle of his scythe. He gave a quick nod to the two demons, and the three of them disappeared.

Ryou sat alone and silently in the living room, awaiting Malik's return.

TBC

Mew: THEY'RE FINALLY TOGETHER! Whoot!

Draiku: You can say that again! Sheesh...

Yoko: Thanks for reading, everyone! Please leave a review; we really appreciate it!


	7. Chapter 7

Mew: You guys get an early update! Yay! Partially because I'll be off the computer all day tomorrow, so. I have nothing to say about this chapter. Absolutely nothing. Only that you will be surprised. Beware.

Disclaimer: Mew Draiku owns NOTHING AND HATES TO ADMIT IT BUT SHE HAS TO. -growl-

Scythe

Chapter 7

"Ugh," Marik moaned, holding his head in pain. "Damn. Stupid hangovers." Besides the fact that his head was throbbing, he felt ashamed of himself for ruining his record of three months without booze. What more, he hadn't just had one drink, he'd had several. He found it hard to believe that he hadn't suffered severe brain damage from it. Marik sighed, disappointed, and looked to Bakura, who was curled up on the couch. His lips curled slightly, forming a small smile, and he took Bakura's hand gently. Being careful of the bandages, he slid his hand up Bakura's arm and to his face, where he stroked his skin for a moment. 

"Thanks," he said, remembering that he'd awoken with Bakura lying next to him. Marik seated himself in the large easy chair, sitting back and putting his feet up on the coffee table. 

"Good, you're awake," said a voice. Marik peered over his shoulder and saw Ryou walking into the living room. "How are you feeling?" 

"I have a headache. Do you have an Aspirin? Advil, perhaps?" Marik asked, rubbing his temples. Ryou nodded. 

"Sure. Just a moment." He left and came back a moment later with a container of Advil in his hand. "Here," he said, handing it to Marik. Marik thanked him, popping two of the pills. He sighed and sat back, waiting for it to start working. 

"I thought that you were, well, trying to avoid drinking," Ryou commented quietly. Marik nodded. 

"Yeah, I was. Damn, I screwed up big time," Marik whispered. He sighed and closed his eyes. "Oh well. I'll just start over at the beginning again. I'm not dead, am I? I'll be fine this time." Ryou smiled. 

"I'm glad that you didn't give up. Where did you get it, anyway? I don't recall having any beer in the house…" he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Teens next door left it outside. I swiped it," Marik replied. "Ugh. That's even worse, now that I think about it. Theft and being totally drunk. How wonderful." He clapped a hand over his eyes, gritting his teeth. 

"It's alright. They don't have any proof that it was you. Just keep trying—I'm sure that you can do it," Ryou said, patting Marik's hand. Marik smiled at him. 

"You're being too damn nice to a boozer like me," he said with a light chuckle. Ryou just smiled back. 

"You're a friend," he said. 

"Thanks." Marik stretched and yawned. He looked to Bakura a moment. "Hey, Ryou? Could I ask you a question?" he asked, sounding uncharacteristically shy. 

"Sure, go ahead," Ryou replied. 

"You're Bakura's brother, so you know him better than anyone, right? Do you think he likes me?" Marik asked, frowning. Ryou blinked. 

"To tell you the truth, Marik, I'm not sure. Malik and I were speculating on that last night while you and Bakura were asleep. But really, you can read him better than anyone here, even me. You just…well, look at him and you know exactly what he wants," Ryou said. "I'm sure that he appreciates that about you. It would be as though you're his best friend." Marik smiled slightly sadly. 

"Best friend. If he doesn't love me, I could live with that for a while. Then I'd probably have a mental breakdown and start stalking him until I know exactly how many pubic hairs he has," Marik said. Ryou blushed slightly. 

"Well, that's one way to put it," he said, trying not to think too hard about the pubic hairs comment. Marik laughed. 

"Hey, where's Malik, anyway?" he asked. 

"Still asleep. He came back in tears. I took him to bed and comforted him as best I could, but he wouldn't stop. I think that he cried himself to sleep last night," Ryou mumbled softly. Marik frowned. 

"This Death thing will make him crazy. There's only so much he can take," he muttered. Ryou nodded. 

"I know. I hope that it ends soon," he said. Marik nodded and sat back in his seat again. "I almost forgot to tell you, Marik. You and Bakura can have the guest room now." Marik grinned. 

"Ah, finally. I was wondering when you'd finally admit your undying love to him," he said. Ryou blushed. "Thanks. Be careful, though. Malik sometimes sleepwalks and wets the bed." Marik snickered evilly. 

"Do not," Malik said, walking down the stairs all of a sudden. He was clearly still tired, since he was yawning and rubbing his eyes. Ryou frowned and walked over to him hurriedly. 

"Malik, you're still tired. Go back to sleep," he said. Malik shook his head. 

"It doesn't matter. I can't die from sleep deprivation," he replied. "Besides, Pain and Suffering are waking me up throughout the entire night, so it wouldn't matter even if I was still mortal. Ugh, I am exhausted." 

"I told you, go back to bed. You can sleep as long as you want," Ryou insisted. Malik shook his head yet again. 

"I need to stay on my normal schedule, or you'll be awake all day, and I'll be awake all night, and we won't be able to spend any time with each other," he said. Ryou blushed slightly. 

"Th-thank you, but you should really be asleep," he said. Malik just smiled and leaned on him. 

"Don't worry. I'll be fine, really." Ryou smiled shyly and wrapped an arm around Malik gently. He took him to the loveseat and sat down next to him. Marik smiled slightly. 

"Glad to see that you've finally found someone, Malik," he said. "You too, Ryou." Ryou smiled back. 

"Aw, thanks, Marik," Malik said and clutched Ryou's hand. Bakura suddenly sat up and looked around sleepily. Marik grinned. 

"Finally! It was so boring around here while you were asleep, Bakura," he said, and hugged Bakura tightly. Bakura yawned and hooked his chin over Marik's shoulder. He suddenly cringed and pulled away, clutching his side. Marik blinked and carefully lifted Bakura's shirt. He frowned. 

"Sorry," he muttered, seeing that one of Bakura's wounds had reopened. "I'll be more careful." Bakura gave a curt nod and pulled the bandages a little tighter. Marik decided that it would be best to just hold Bakura's hand while he was healing. 

As the weeks went by, Ryou and Malik got closer, but they were continually tormented by the fact that Malik was the new Death, and it was very unlikely for that to change. Bakura was still silent, never saying a single word at all, and Marik kept adoring him. Bakura's wounds healed over, and Marik went back to his normal routine of hugging him tightly once more. 

"You don't know how happy I am that your cuts are healed!" Marik said, grinning and hugging Bakura for the umpteenth time that day. Bakura sighed through his nose and rolled his eyes. "Let's go get something to eat. I'm hungry. I'm guessing that you want something filling, Italian, perhaps. I'm not much of a cook, and I don't want to leave in case Malik comes back from his 'job,' so let's order pizza!" He picked up the phone and dialed the local pizza parlor's number. After ordering, he sat on the couch with Bakura. 

"So! What do you wanna do later?" Marik asked. Bakura looked away, since Marik would 'read' him by looking into his eyes. "Nothing, huh? You just wanna sit here all night?" Marik asked dully. "Oh well. I'll do whatever you're doing, Bakura." He sighed, obviously bored. "I don't get it," Marik mumbled after a long while. "Why are you so silent all the time? And I know that you're thinking that I wouldn't understand, but I would. All you have to do is tell me." Bakura looked to him dully. Marik sighed again and gazed at him. "You do know that I love you. I wouldn't use anything you tell me against you in any way. If you don't want to talk that much, at least kiss me back for once. I kiss you all the time and you never once have kissed back." Bakura looked away once again. Marik clenched his fists and stood, glaring at Bakura. 

"Come on! All I want is some sign that tells me how you feel for me! Do you love me? Hate me? Neither? Just give me a sign, Bakura! You don't even have to speak!" he yelled. "If you love me, just hold my hand. If you hate me, then don't do anything. All I want is to know." Marik was crying now, eyes filled with tears. "That's all I ask. Just do me one favor, and I'll never ask anything of you again," he whispered. 

Bakura did nothing for a long while. He simply gazed contently at Marik, eyes half-open in a sleepy sort of manner. 

Marik looked at him, heartbroken. He gritted his teeth, but bit back his yells. 

"I see," he murmured. "Then I have no reason to burden Ryou anymore. I'll go—just give me a while to pack up." He was about to turn around when Bakura stood up. 

"Marik," the white-haired man said, "you talk too much." He wrapped his arms around Marik's torso and held him close. Marik's eyes widened in total and complete disbelief. Bakura's voice was similar to Ryou's, but deeper; hoarse, as though it was his first time speaking. Every word he said was carefully annunciated, yet sharp at the same time. He had an obvious British accent, but it wasn't smooth and clear—it was harsh and unforgiving.

But to Marik, Bakura's voice was that of a beautiful angel's. 

He wrapped his own arms around Bakura and held him possessively, as though he'd disappear at any second. 

"I love you," he whispered. Bakura pulled away for a moment to capture Marik's lips in a passionate kiss. 

"I love you too," he murmured back once they'd pulled away. They gazed into each other's eyes, both of them slowly becoming filled with lust. 

"God, Bakura," Marik mumbled. 

And suddenly, as though the very air was filled with magic, the two were in the guest bedroom and tangled within each other on the bed.

TBC

Mew: I'm moving waaay too quickly. -sadface- This definitely will not be as long as Badass Boyfriend, guys. However, the main thing here is: Were you surprised? -grin-

Yoko: Thanks for reading, everyone! Please leave a review to answer Mew's heart-stopping question. 


	8. Chapter 8

Mew: Oh, my god. I can't believe that I forgot to update last week. I'm so sorry! I've been WAY too caught up with things...

Draiku: Excuses, excuses. -rolls eyes-

Mew: -slap- Shut up, meanie. -sobs-

Disclaimer: Mew Draiku doesn't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

Scythe

Chapter 8

Ryou yawned as he returned home late in the evening. He peered into the guest bedroom and saw Marik peacefully sleeping, and Bakura sitting on the couch, reading, and wearing a white robe with slippers to match. His hair was slightly damp; obviously, he'd taken a shower. Bakura looked up at him through tired-looking, yet bright eyes.

"Ah, you're back," he said. "As you can see, Marik's sleeping in the room. If you're hungry, there's some pizza in the fridge. I'm going to the study, so if you need me just call." Ryou stared, eyes wide with shock as Bakura stood up and stretched a moment.

"Did you just speak?" Ryou asked. Bakura looked over his shoulder at him.

"Yes." Ryou sat down on the easy-chair staring ahead blankly.

"Fourteen years," he mumbled. "It's been fourteen years since I've heard your voice. And now I'm finally hearing it again, and it's to say something casual? Why have you suddenly decided to talk again??" Bakura paused a moment.

"Let's just say that someone here persuaded me to," he said, a slight smirk crossing his features, and he went to the study with a chuckle. Ryou looked into the guestroom and saw Marik sprawled out on the bed, still asleep and snoring.

"You're amazing, Marik. A real miracle-maker," he whispered, smiling. Marik gave a snort and opened his eyes. He yawned soon afterwards, and walked out of the room wearing only a towel around his waist. Ryou blushed slightly. Nudity still had that effect on him, even though he was a grown man.

"Oh, hi Ryou," he said sleepily.

"Hello, Marik. Good evening," Ryou said, smiling nervously. There was a long moment of silence.

"I was gonna ask you something important, but I forgot," Marik mumbled finally.

"Was it about if the laundry was done or not?" Ryou asked.

Another moment of silence passed by.

"I think so," Marik said. Ryou laughed.

"Your clothes are hanging in the closet of the guest room. I took 'em there this morning while you were asleep," he said.

"Ahh, thank you!" Marik said as though he'd just discovered that the universe was actually created by a rooster named Sally. He walked back to the guestroom and quickly put on one of his simple, three-piece suits. When he walked back out, he was wearing his trademark sunglasses and smirk.

"So, are you and Bakura together?" Ryou asked, smiling innocently. Marik nodded, beaming.

"Yeah," he said, obviously holding back his happiness. Ryou chuckled.

"I'm glad. And thank you for convincing him to speak again," he said.

"I really didn't tell him to start speaking. He did it on his own," Marik said, and sat down.

"Really?" Marik nodded, just as Bakura came down. The man plunked himself right in Marik's lap, lying down on him and reading a book. Marik smiled, closed his eyes gently, and rested his arms around Bakura's stomach, holding him. Malik arrived soon after, and stared at Marik and Bakura. He looked to Ryou.

"Did I miss something huge?" he asked. Ryou smiled and chuckled.

"I suppose so," he replied. Marik explained what had happened to Malik, who didn't believe him. He did believe him when Bakura spoke to him, however. Pain and Suffering looked to each other and shrugged.

"I guess that Bakura will die a rather painful death now," Suffering whispered to Pain, who nodded in agreement. Malik glared at both of them, and the two only shrugged innocently in reply. Malik sighed and sat next to Ryou, holding his hand. He smiled at him.

"You know, whenever I get back here from… 'work,' I'm always, always, always grateful to see you here," he said. Ryou smiled back and kissed him gently.

"I'm going to get some pizza," Bakura said, standing up and walking into the kitchen. "If I remember correctly, there are four pieces. If you three don't come, I'm eating all of it." Marik, Malik, and Ryou looked to each other, laughed quietly, and followed him into the kitchen.

-

Marik, Ryou, and Malik later learned that even though Bakura was speaking, he didn't talk much at all. Everything he said was precise and to-the-point. He never spoke more than he needed to get his point across.

One day, Pain and Suffering gave Malik a small, black booklet.

"What is this, a Bible?" Malik asked, looking at it. Suffering shook his head.

"Not at all, Master Malik. It's a Little Black Book," he said.

"Isn't that for phone numbers and such?" Malik asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, you idiot. It tells you exactly when someone is gonna die and how," Pain snorted. "That way we won't have to always wake you up in the middle of the night." Malik frowned.

"I don't really like it," he muttered.

"Still, it is handy. I don't see why we thought of this sooner. This was one of our brilliant ideas!" Suffering grinned and clasped his hands together.

"It was all my idea, moron," Pain growled, and spat a tiny fireball at the ground.

"Anyway, it also gives you their name, so you can mentally prepare yourself in case it's someone you happen to know or like. For instance, if you were a fan of Avril Lavigne, you wouldn't be shocked to figure out that you have to enable her to pass on," Suffering explained. "It rather helped the previous Death when he was new to the job, so we figured that it would help you."

"Oh." Malik flipped through it. "It's blank."

"Yes, that's because the names fill in exactly one hour before the person's death. Ah, there's one now." A name appeared in scratchy handwriting on the page Malik was open to.

"What? Britney Spears is gonna die tonight? I had no idea. Let's see, the cause of death is… she falls off the stage and hits her head on the hard, concrete floor? That's…pathetic, really," Malik muttered to himself.

"Hah! That's just too funny. At least she dies doin' what she loves!" Pain said with a grin. Malik and Suffering ignored him, and Malik sighed.

"Well, I'm ready, at least. What if I'm asleep and a name fills in?" he said.

"We'll wake you up as soon as it does," Suffering replied simply.

"Alright then." Malik sighed again and frowned, staring at the Little Black Book. He looked up at the two demons once again. "Say it says the name of someone close to me, that I know personally. Is there any way to--?"

"No. If you don't kill the person listed, or interfere with their death, then you will be sent to oblivion. I apologize for being so blunt, Master Malik, but it's true," Suffering said in a somewhat tight voice. Malik frowned and sighed.

"I understand," he muttered.

An hour passed by all too quickly, and Malik was sent to Spears' most popular and final concert.

TBC

Mew: Sorry it was so short. And...sorry to Britney fans, I guess. -shrug-

Draiku: SORRY, CHRIS CROCKER. Or however you spell his name.

Mew: -gigglesnort-

Yoko: Anyway, thanks for reading, everyone! Please leave a review saying you forgive Mew. PLEASE. -begs-


	9. Chapter 9

Mew: This is mostly an "explanation" chapter, to clear up bits and pieces in the story. Hopefully it'll get rid of any confusion you guys have. -grin-

Draiku: It'd better, at least.

Mew: Anyway, enjoy. Also, support artists' rights and sign this petition:

http/ /www.gopetition. com/petitions/no-to-orphan-works-act .html (take out the spaces)

I, as well as every other artist in the United States, would really appreciate your support.

Disclaimer: Mew Draiku doesn't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

Scythe

Chapter 9

Marik was lying in bed with Bakura, holding him gently. Bakura clutched his hand, resting his head on Marik's shoulder. He paused a moment, and opened his eyes.

"Marik," Bakura murmured. Marik blinked and looked to him. "Why me?"

"Why you what?" Marik asked. Bakura looked away with just his eyes.

"Why do you love me of all people? You're rich, popular, handsome, and already a player, while I'm still living with my family members since I can't get a job, antisocial, suicidal, and not too good-looking," he said softly. Marik sat up and Bakura followed.

"First off, Bakura, you aren't ugly at all. You're the exact opposite, believe me," he said, a little sternly. Bakura chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Don't think that you aren't handsome, because you really are, in every way. Understand?" Bakura gazed at him and finally smiled slightly.

"Sure," he said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. Marik sighed and held his hands.

"Why do you think that of yourself?" he asked gently. Bakura pulled his hands away and yanked up a sleeve, revealing his countless scars. Marik mentally flinched at the sight of them. He hated seeing any sort of wound, old or new, on his Bakura.

"Scars make people ugly," Bakura murmured. Marik frowned and took Bakura's hand as he slid the sleeve back over the scars.

"Listen. I have several scars from when I was a teenager," he said. Bakura raised an eyebrow. "There was a group of kids who absolutely despised me, even though I'd done nothing to them before."

"Homophobes?" Bakura inquired. Marik nodded.

"At least once a week, they'd chase me and beat me with various objects—once with a golf club, even more times with knives. I'm actually pretty lucky to be here right now—some of my friends weren't…spared by them." He paused a moment, frowning and looking down. "But my point is, I have plenty of scars. Do you think that I'm ugly for them?" Bakura shook his head.

"But your scars are different," he replied simply. "You can talk about your scars and people will understand. If I talk about mine, they'd pity me and make me feel ashamed of myself."

"Bakura, I'm ashamed of most of my scars too," Marik said, clutching Bakura's hand tightly.

"Why?"

"I ran away when I could've fought back. I begged them to stop. I even promised them rare and expensive things if they'd just leave me alone. But there are two scars that I'm proud of."

"And which ones are those?" Marik rolled up his sleeve and pointed to a somewhat jagged, rough scar just below his elbow. It had become light over time, but it was still visible.

"This one I got when I finally did fight back. I managed to take out all but one of them, and that last one had a knife. He cut me with it when I punched him out," Marik said with a grin. Bakura just had to chuckle a bit.

"I'm glad you got them back. What about the other one?" he asked. Marik pulled his sleeve back down, then held out his right hand, palm up. The scar was recent, since it was slightly scabbed over and deep red. But it was smooth, as though it had been made by a razor.

"When I yanked the razor blade out of your hand that day, I slashed my palm. Normally, I would've pulled back and probably cried a minute or two from the pain, but that time I didn't. I was so scared for you rather than myself that I didn't feel the pain. That's why I like that scar," Marik explained. Bakura took Marik's scarred hand and traced the wound with a finger.

"Thank you for saving me that night," he muttered softly, looking into Marik's eyes. Marik smiled and took Bakura's hands once more.

"I'd do anything for you. I'd even lay down my life so you could live," he replied simply.

"I'd do the same for you, but don't do that. I'd never forgive you if I lived longer than you," Bakura said.

"As would I." Marik frowned after a moment. "But one thing has been bothering me. Why did you do that to yourself that night?" he asked gently. Bakura sighed.

"When you first came, you never left me alone. It was annoying as hell, but I got used to it so much that when you left, I felt so…empty. I overheard you speaking on the phone, saying something about your business and all, and I thought that you'd have to leave. I hated feeling so empty, so I just wanted to die," he muttered.

"Don't ever want to die again," Marik said sternly. "No matter what. Promise me that." Bakura nodded and Marik hugged him gently.

"I'll never think of suicide again. I have someone to live for, now, you know." Marik smiled knowingly and nuzzled Bakura's face with his own.

"Same here, Bakura," he said softly. "But tell me one thing. Why didn't you speak?" Bakura paused.

"When I was younger," he started, "I saw people dying right in front of my very eyes. Well, not exactly, but I sort of envisioned it in my mind. They were burned alive, and I saw their skin peeling off and melting. They screamed so loudly, Marik. I could even _smell_ it."

"How?" Marik asked, voice quivering a bit.

"I have the sixth sense, remember?" Bakura said. "Whatever Death or Pain and Suffering saw, I saw too. Whatever they were experiencing, I was experiencing it as well. Once a man was eaten alive by a pack of wolves. That was probably what made me make my decision. I contacted Death, and traded my voice for a painless death." Marik nodded.

"I see," he said softly. "But why did you try to kill yourself, then? That looked extremely painful." He winced a little at the thought of it, and Bakura sighed.

"I couldn't stand not being able to speak to anyone, or even write to get my emotions out. And when I cut myself on a piece of glass, or something, I couldn't feel a thing. It wasn't the most pleasant sensation, since the blood got all sticky after a while, but there was no pain involved."

"Then why didn't you just talk again before that, if you were going to kill yourself anyway?" Marik asked. He frowned a bit, realizing how harsh that sounded.

"I was worried that Death could still control me. I was worried that the loss of blood would make me delirious and make me play in traffic or something. I was even worried that I'd cut into my stomach too deeply, and the acids would come out. They'd basically burn me from the inside out. That's why I kept silent," Bakura said. "And…and I'm sorry for that."

"Don't apologize," Marik quickly said. "You never need to apologize for something like that. What's done is done—it doesn't matter anymore. You've changed for the better, Bakura, and I applaud you for that." Bakura smiled.

"Thank you," he murmured. "Thank you so much." He wrapped his arms around Marik's torso gently, pulling him into a loving hug. Marik could only smile at him and do the same.

TBC

Mew: AWWW. -melts- I just love Marik and Bakura being all fluffy like that.

Draiku: -rolls eyes-

Yoko: Thanks for reading, everyone! Please remember to R&R--we really appreciate your words!


	10. Chapter 10

Mew: Time for a really quickly paced chapter. Sorry about that, guys. -sobs-

Draiku: Oh, suck it up. -rolls eyes-

Mew: -still sobbing-

Disclaimer: Mew Draiku doesn't own Yu-Gi-Oh. She's tired of saying this, and is beginning to believe that the people who make her say it have such thick skulls that they don't understand the first time. She is also ashamed for writing a runon sentence.

Scythe

Chapter 10

Just a week later, Marik and Bakura decided to return to the US together to live at Marik's home. Malik moved in with Ryou and stayed with him even as Death. Pain and Suffering now only appeared when they absolutely needed to, since Malik had grown sick of their presence, especially when he and Ryou were in bed with each other.

Three years passed by slowly. Throughout these three years, most everything went well. There was always the occasional crisis, but each couple got through it just fine.

"I'm so glad Marik and Bakura are coming today," Ryou said as he and Malik drove to the airport to pick them up. Malik nodded in agreement.

"They've probably changed a lot since we last saw them," he said. Ryou chuckled.

"They may be more surprised to see us, since our looks haven't changed all that much," he replied. Malik blinked.

"You're right, we really haven't changed too much. Oh well. We look best this way, let's just leave it at that," he said with a laugh and a grin. "I just hope that Pain and Suffering don't interrupt their visit at all." Ryou nodded and shivered.

"Ugh, I hate Pain so much. He's so rude," he mumbled. "Suffering's fine. But Pain? No. I'd rather eat my own foot than be trapped in a room with him." Malik laughed.

"I know exactly what you mean," he said, just as they pulled into the airport parking lot. They walked in and went to the designated terminal where Bakura and Marik were supposed to arrive. After a moment, the plane landed. Malik grinned at Ryou.

"I'm actually looking forward to seeing Marik this time," he said. Ryou laughed and they saw Marik and Bakura walk into the airport. The two looked absolutely exhausted. Ryou and Malik waved, and they looked up, grinning.

"Hey! You actually came to pick us up!" Marik said with a laugh.

"Tch. Of course we did," Malik said with a slight smirk. "You two haven't changed much since we last saw you."

"Speak for yourself," Marik replied. "So, I trust everything is going well?"

"Yup. I've opened my own private clinic and Malik's sort of like my unpaid assistant. Of course, he sometimes has to be pulled away to work at his part-time job." Ryou said the last part a bit darkly, and Malik frowned slightly.

"I thought that you carried that thing everywhere," Bakura said. "Where is it now?"

"I left it at home. It took a while. In the end, Ryou ended up holding it while I went to the car first. I feel kind of…nervous without it, actually," Malik said with a forced laugh.

"Well, all we have to do is pick up our luggage, then we can get to your place so you can feel comfortable with it again," Marik said, smirking slightly. Malik pouted a little, but nodded.

"Alright. Let's go," he said. Marik and Bakura picked up their luggage, and they headed back to Ryou's home.

"So how's your business been doing?" Malik asked Marik. Marik took off his sunglasses and sighed slightly.

"Not so good, actually. In the last month, our profits have gone down quite a bit. Most of our best escorts keep dying or quitting. I think that if the profits aren't at their normal rate by next spring, I'll retire," he said.

"Sheesh, retiring at 32? That's a dream," Ryou commented. Marik chuckled.

"Well, I have the money to do it, and the company's only costing money, so I may just hand it over to someone else and quit," he said. "Oh, by the way, mom and dad said hi, Malik."

"Really? They actually said hi? To me of all people?" Malik said sarcastically. Marik laughed and nodded.

"I think that they regret disowning you," he said.

"Whatever." Malik yawned and stretched. "So, Bakura, do you have a job yet?"

"Unfortunately, no. No one will accept me because I was in an asylum," Bakura said rather bitterly. "I wanted to work as a book or movie critic, but they rejected me for that reason only."

"Aw, that sucks. Those idiots. I think that you'd make a good critic since you're so blunt and to-the-point," Malik said with a slight frown.

"I could always bribe 'em, you know," Marik offered. Bakura shook his head.

"I've told you before; I want to get the job fairly," he replied simply. "Thanks for the offer, though." He squeezed Marik's hand lovingly and smiled at him just as they pulled into Ryou's driveway. They got out, and Malik opened the door.

"Damn! It's so cold outside," he muttered.

"Well, that's what you get when winter's coming," Ryou said simply, with a slight chuckle. They walked inside, and Marik sat on the couch, stretching.

"God, it's been so long since I've been here," he said with a grin, and yawned. "I'll try my hardest to stay awake, even with the whole jet lag thing. Got any coffee?"

"Sure. I kind of figured you'd need it," Malik said, laughing. Bakura sat next to Marik and leaned on his shoulder. Malik walked into the kitchen, just as Ryou took his own seat.

"So, is Malik holding up as Death?" Marik asked in a soft murmur. Ryou sighed and nodded.

"Yeah. He doesn't let it get to him any more, though. He does come home crying occasionally, but it's not like before. And yes, Pain and Suffering are still idiots," he said. Marik looked to the scythe as it stood, seemingly innocent, in the corner. He frowned at it.

"I don't really think that there's any way he'll stop being Death…" Ryou mumbled to himself. "I don't want him to become like the previous Death. Of course, I've never met him, but Pain and Suffering talk about him all the time."

"Same here," Bakura muttered.

"You knew the previous Death?" Ryou asked. Bakura nodded.

"He made a bargain with me. If I didn't speak for the rest of my life, he'd let me die a painless death. Quite frankly, I'm glad that I'm talking again," he replied. "A death without Marik beside me would be the most painful one there is. I don't know what I'd ever do without him." Marik smiled and clasped Bakura's hand again.

"So did Malik ever get a real job, besides what you're having him do?" he asked. Ryou nodded.

"Yes—he works as a graphic designer for Studio Ghibli movies," he said with a somewhat proud smiled. Marik whistled.

"And just a few years ago he was just a starving artist. Impressive," he said.

"Here's the coffee! Sorry I took so long—I had to 'do my job' again," Malik said, carrying out four cups of coffee in his hands. He handed them out, and finally sat down. Marik looked at the corner again. Sure enough, the scythe was gone.

"Where'd you put the scythe?" he asked.

"It's in the kitchen. So! What have you and Bakura been up to?" Malik asked.

"We've just been hanging out, going on vacations here and there, the usual," Marik said.

"Like to where?"

"The Bahamas, Florida, Texas," Bakura answered. "We encountered some idiots in Texas, though, and I don't want to go there again." He scowled slightly.

"Yup. A couple of freaks tried to 'convert' us into being straight," Marik said, and rolled his eyes. "When we didn't, they messed up our car when we went into one of the museums. We had to take a stupid ol' bus back to our motel! It stank in there!"

"That sucks," Malik commented blatantly.

"Sure does. Luckily, when we got back from the museum, we found their car and scratched the word 'breeders' into the side! Ha! It was priceless! Plus, we got a photo of them freaking out over it. Here, it's on my cell phone," Marik said, flicking out his cell phone and handing it to Malik. Malik stifled a laugh at it.

"They were asking for it. No, not asking—practically begging!" he said, grinning somewhat evilly.

"Two wrongs don't make a right, Marik," Bakura said, glaring slight at Marik.

"Psh. Math would disagree with you," Marik replied, patting Bakura on the back somewhat roughly.

"So what have you and Ryou been up to, Malik?" Bakura asked, ignoring Marik.

"Nothing really. Working, hanging out at home, occasionally eating out or going to movies," Malik said, sighing. "It's nice. I don't have to slave away just to earn a couple hundred bucks anymore." Marik laughed.

"Then you'd like my lifestyle," he said with a grin. "I barely have to do anything."

"Lucky," Malik said with a pout. Marik chuckled again.

"Well, I have to get to the car. I forgot some stuff in there," he said, standing. "Excuse me a moment." As soon as Marik left the room, Pain and Suffering appeared.

"Master Malik," Suffering said. "We have some bad news for you." The demons led Malik to the kitchen, where they told him what was wrong.

"What's up?" Malik asked. Pain pointed to the Little Black Book on Malik's belt.

"Look at that," he said. Malik blinked and opened it. He flipped through it until he found the page they wanted. He read the names on it, and gasped.

"Oh, god," he whispered. "No. No, no, no, no, no." He collapsed to the floor.

"His name has been there for almost fifty-five minutes. He'll be hit by a semi that loses control on the ice," Suffering explained.

"No!" Malik yelled. Bakura rushed in.

"What's going on??" he demanded. Ryou came in as well. Malik just pointed to the book on the floor. Bakura picked it up and flipped through it. He gasped. "What the hell?? You have to be able to stop this somehow!"

"I can't," Malik whispered. "I can't!" Bakura cursed, dropping the book.

"Then I'll just do something!" he said, and ran outside. Malik picked up the book. Underneath Marik's name, Bakura's had appeared.

"He'll die, too. There's no way to stop it," Pain said.

"Shut up!" Malik yelled. Ryou attempted to comfort him. "Dammit! I'm so useless! I know when they're going to die, but I can't do a thing!"

"Malik, calm down, please!" Ryou said. "There's nothing we can do. I regret saying it, but…it's true."

"No. There has to be a way! There just has to be!" Malik said, and stood. He ran outside, grabbing the scythe. When he looked outside, he saw Marik clutching his ankle on the ground, and Bakura trying to help him up. Bakura was still somewhat weak, and could just barely lift him.

Then, Malik saw the semi.

The truck was speeding down the road—it would destroy anything in its way. It honked loudly, and Marik and Bakura could only stare in fright.

"No!!" Malik screamed, jumping in front of the vehicle. He held the scythe straight out, with the blunt end pointing at the truck. Ryou watched, eyes wide. He yelled for him to get out of the street, but Malik didn't seem to hear. He had only one thought.

If the sharp side takes lives…then maybe the blunt side saves them!

The truck's brakes squealed and it collided with the scythe. There was a brilliant flash of light, and the scythe actually cut through the truck, slicing it perfectly into two halves. The halves barely missed Marik and Bakura, and eventually slowed to a halt and tipped over. The driver climbed out, just as the front of the truck exploded. Fire burnt on both halves, and Marik and Bakura stared at the wreckage.

"My god," Marik whispered. They looked to Malik. Marik's younger brother was still standing there, holding the scythe tightly. Pain and Suffering suddenly evaporated, and Malik gave a cry of pain and turned to dust. Ryou stared at the pile of ashes on the street, fell to his knees, and screamed.

TBC

Mew: Next chapter will be the last one. I told you this story would be short!

Draiku: YAY FOR A SHORT STORY.

Mew: Yay indeed. I can't wait to finish it. -grins- And I'm thinking of doing an epilogue for it. Yea or nay? I don't know what the epilogue will contain, exactly, but I have a pretty good idea for it.

Yoko: Thanks for reading, everyone! If you're interested in an epilogue, leave a review, or contact Mew through a PM! Otherwise she'll never publish it. EVER. -glares-

Mew: Yay, Yoko's growing a backbone!


	11. Chapter 11

Mew: The final chapter of Scythe. I went ahead and wrote the epilogue, which is why this chapter is a bit late. It's been posted, since I thought this chapter was a little short. Anyway, get reading!

Disclaimer: Mew Draiku fails to own Yu-Gi-Oh. Because she's just that lame.

Scythe

Chapter 11

Malik was floating through a huge, dark area. He gazed at nothing, wondering where he was. Then, he remembered. Oblivion.

"I knew I shouldn't have let a human mortal do it," a somewhat harsh, deep voice said. Malik blinked and flicked around, trying to find its source. "They have too many emotions. Should've just given the damned thing to a cat. At least it would do the job right."

"Where are you??" Malik demanded, looking all around. Finally, a cloaked figure floated towards him. It reached out with a bony hand, and removed its hood. Underneath the hood was a human skull. Malik stared, eyes wide.

"Idiot," the previous Death sneered. "You disobeyed the rules."

"What else could I do??" Malik demanded. "I couldn't just let them die!" Death uncurled his right hand and an orb appeared. It showed Ryou, sobbing on the porch.

"But you abandoned him," he said. Malik looked away, and Death flipped through his own Little Black Book. "He'll kill himself a day from now. You do realize how much he loved you, eh?"

"Shut up," Malik hissed. "I…I had to do something."

"Well, that something you did was wrong. You should've let them die. At least they would've died together. Marik will die fifty years from now of a stroke, and Bakura will be murdered by a group of punks on the corner of Main Street two years from now," Death said. "Marik will live all alone for forty-eight years, continuously grieving. If you hadn't saved them, you would've made their lives better." Malik felt tears streaming from his eyes.

"I only did what I thought was right!" he whispered. "I can't…I can't let someone die! Why did I have to be Death?? Why couldn't you choose someone else?? I hate you. I hate you!" He was screaming now, tugging at his hair.

"Weakling," Death sneered. "It was random, anyway. You were just unlucky, as well as your friends and family."

"Shut up. Just shut up!" Malik yelled. Death suddenly held up a coin in front of Malik's face. On it was carved a skull on one side, and a candle on the other.

"If it lands on the candle, I'll let you go back," Death said. Malik stared.

"What?" he whimpered.

"If it lands on the candle, I'll let you go back. But if it lands on the skull, you stay here," Death explained. Malik stared again.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what? You aren't back yet," Death growled. He flicked the coin high into whatever the substance around them was called.

"For giving me another chance," Malik replied, just as the coin fell. It landed on its side, and spun. Finally, after at least ten seconds of anxiety and anticipation, it fell over.

Candle.

Malik's eyes widened, and Death picked up the coin. He placed it into Malik's palm.

"Keep that. Just to remind you that I gave you the second chance you didn't deserve," Death snarled. Malik whispered his gratitude again, and suddenly reappeared in the real world.

"Malik!" Ryou cried. Malik flicked around, and immediately captured him in a tight embrace. Bakura half-carried-half-dragged Marik over.

"You saved us," Bakura whispered. "Thank you." Marik nodded in agreement, just as Death appeared again. He was holding the scythe, and Pain and Suffering sat on his shoulders.

"It isn't over, yet. I'm always lurking behind you, no matter what," Death said in a horribly wicked tone.

"Just a minute, there!" Marik yelled, and half-limped-half-hopped over to the Black Angel.

"What do you want?" Death asked in a cold tone.

"You ruined Bakura's life! That pact you made with him was extremely unfair! He shouldn't have to die a painful death after suffering for so damn long!" Marik yelled. Death stared at him through emotionless eyes.

"Marik," Bakura said, stepping forward. "It's alright."

"No, it's not alright! Because of this…this freak, you almost killed yourself, several times! You deserve better!" Marik yelled. He kept yelling at Death, until Death finally put up a bony hand.

"Fine!" he said. "I'll let him choose his time of death, but I get to decide if it's painful or not."

"That's--!" Marik started.

"Marik, that's just fine," Bakura said. He stepped towards Death, staring right into his eye sockets. "I want to die at the exact same time Marik does. Not a second before or after. I also want to die with him. I want to be in the same room he's in, less than a foot away from him. Understand?" he said. Death nodded.

"Fine," he said, "but that doesn't mean I won't make it painful."

"Fine by me. Is…that alright with you, Marik?" Bakura asked, looking to him. Marik was beaming.

"Perfect," he said softly, "absolutely perfect. There's nothing more I could wish for."

"See ya, Malik!" Pain said, grinning. "We're back with our old master now. He's better than you'll ever be!" Suffering smacked Pain over the head, glaring.

"Idiot! He was our previous master—you should still respect him," the demon growled.

"Aw, shut up," Pain snarled back. Malik just stared at the two.

"You know, Pain, I don't want to be 'better' than Death. That's just something that I'd hate to be," he finally said. "But, putting your rudeness and kiss-ass-ness aside, I'll actually miss you little guys." The demons chuckled.

"We won't miss you," Pain replied. Suffering smacked him again.

"I figured that you'd say that, Pain," Malik said with a laugh. "Goodbye, you two."

"Farewell, Malik!" Suffering said, waving with a thin hand while they disappeared in a short swirling of light.

"You're still an asshole!" Pain added, his voice slightly faint. Malik sighed, shaking his head. He looked to Ryou, then to Marik, then Bakura. He smiled at the three men in front of him, truly glad. He was thankful to all of them for sticking with him through these years. He was especially thankful for Ryou; the younger man understood his emotions and helped him the best he could. Malik sighed again, closing his eyes, and taking a deep breath of air. The air tasted sweet, despite the smell of smoke and gas coming from the semi. He reopened his eyes, and looked to them. They gazed back, obviously waiting for him to say something. So, he did.

"It's over," Malik announced. "It's finally over."

End

Mew: GO AND READ THE EPILOGUE. 8D


	12. Epilogue

Mew: Apparently, the epilogue is longer than the final chapter. LAME.

Draiku: You can say that again.

Mew: I will. The epilogue is longer than--

Draiku: SHUT UP. READERS, STOP READING THIS CRAP UP HERE. GET TO THE STORY.

Disclaimer: Mew Draiku STILL fails to own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Scythe

Epilogue

Marik and Bakura were in their mid-thirties now, living together in Marik's huge mansion. Marik had retired, and Bakura was finally a famous book critic.

"How's the book so far?" Marik asked while Bakura read a book for his next article.

"Quite good. The plot is exciting, the characters' personalities are consistent, and it's a rather unique topic to be writing about," Bakura replied, not looking up.

"What's the topic?" Marik said, deciding to read over his lover's shoulder.

"Basically, it's about a teacher-student relationship. The main character, Jeff, falls in love with his math teacher, who just graduated from college the year before. Jeff's a senior in high school, and the math teacher, Mr. Klyde, is twenty-five. Klyde returns the love, and it's mostly lust for a while. Then they actually develop some feelings for each other. I haven't gotten to the end yet, so I don't know what becomes of them," Bakura explained.

"Sounds interesting," Marik commented. Bakura nodded, and finished the chapter he was on. He bookmarked it, and looked to Marik.

"We should go out today," he said. Marik blinked.

"But that article is due in two days."

"Let it rest," Bakura said. "Come on. A movie, lunch, dinner, anything." Marik smiled and kissed his forehead gently.

"How can I say no?" he asked. Bakura chuckled and they decided to eat dinner at one of the most expensive restaurants in town. They hadn't been there for a long time, and it was a great idea to visit the place again. The food was, as usual, superb. Marik looked at Bakura, noticing the man's somewhat wistful expression.

"What's on your mind?" Marik asked. Bakura sighed.

"I was just thinking about what it would be like if were married," he replied softly. Marik paused.

"We haven't really thought about that, have we?" he asked.

"I wish we could, though," Bakura said. "But it was made illegal in our state last month." He sighed again.

"Then we'd do it illegally and privately," Marik said, chuckling. Bakura stared at him, a little sadly. Marik didn't really seem that interested in getting married. He looked away. "Just one moment; I have to use the restroom," Marik said, getting up. Bakura nodded, and Marik walked to a middle-aged woman on the other side of the restaurant. She was eating alone, and had many beautiful rings on her hands.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" Marik asked politely. "How much was that ruby ring on your index finger? I want to get the perfect ring for my future spouse, and, well, that's the one. Also, where did you buy it?" She blinked.

"I paid 400 dollars for it, and bought it at Custom Jewelers. It's one of a kind," she said. Marik eyed it.

"I'll pay double that price for it," he said.

She couldn't refuse the offer.

Marik wrote out the check, and took the ring. He smiled, placing it into his back pocket, and returned to Bakura.

"Sorry I took so long," he said. Bakura just nodded, and smiled back.

"It's alright," he answered. "Are you finished eating?" Marik nodded.

"Yes; are you?"

"Yeah. Should we get going, then?" Marik agreed, and paid for their meal. He and Bakura left.

"Well?" Marik asked, taking off his sunglasses to look at Bakura. "Where do you want to go?" Bakura gazed at the sky for a moment.

"How about that park that we like?" he replied. "I don't think that there are any movies on right this moment, or much else to do."

"Perfect," Marik said with a grin. He drove to the large, beautiful park that he and Bakura visited every now and then.

The two walked through the dark area slowly, Marik clutching Bakura's hand tightly. They arrived at a dock by a small, shimmering lake. The moon was full, and high in the sky.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Bakura asked. Marik smiled at him.

"Not really," he replied with a chuckle. Bakura raised an eyebrow.

"It's probably because of your sunglasses," he said. "Take them off and look." Marik removed the glasses and stuck them into the pocket with the ring in it. At the same time, he removed the ring and hid it in the cuff of his suit.

"Not much of a difference, really," he said, gazing at the lake. Bakura sighed.

"You're just being difficult tonight." He pouted a little bit.

"No, I'm being honest. I've seen things far more beautiful, you know."

"Oh? Such as?" Bakura asked. True, Marik was rich, but this place was peaceful and lovely. What could be more beautiful?

"You," Marik said with a smile. Bakura chuckled, looking away.

"That's incredibly corny," he said.

"It works," Marik said with a shrug. "Speaking of you…"

"Yes?" Marik got onto one knee in front of him and gazed up at him. He dropped the ring into his hand, and held it up to Bakura.

"Would you marry me?" he asked. Bakura gasped, and took Marik's hands, pulling him up. He gazed up at the taller male, smiling.

"You already know my answer," he said.

"I do? What is it, then, just to be sure?" Marik asked in a teasing tone.

"Yes. Of course I'll marry you," Bakura said. Marik gently slipped the ring onto Bakura's finger.

"Is it the right size?" he asked. Bakura nodded.

"It's perfect. It's lovely," he murmured. Tears gathered in his eyes, and Marik gently wiped them away just after they fell. "Thank you so much. I've…I've always dreamed of this day." He looked up at him and kissed him passionately. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Marik murmured, holding Bakura tightly. He carried Bakura to a gazebo, and they sat together in the shelter. Marik kissed him lovingly, heatedly, and Bakura kissed back. They rushed back home, and decided to "celebrate" in their bed.

-

The next evening, after a day of calling their families to inform them of the good news, Marik heard a crash. He went downstairs to investigate, only to see two men, dressed in black, breaking in through the side window.

"Hey!" he yelled, glaring. Bakura rushed downstairs to see what was going on. "Get out of here, before I call the police!"

"Shut up!" one man yelled. He shot Marik and Bakura both in the stomachs. The two fell to the floor, crying out in utter agony. Marik managed to crawl to the alarm switch, and quickly pressed it. He collapsed on his back beside Bakura, who panted heavily and clutched his stomach.

"Oh, god," Bakura whispered. "It hurts so much." Tears fell from his eyes, and Marik reached over with a hand and wiped them away. "This isn't fair!" Bakura growled. "We were going to get married, and after so many years…!"

"I'm sorry," Marik managed out. "I should've asked you sooner, or something. This is my fault." Bakura shook his head as Marik came closer to him. The two were almost touching now, and Marik clutched Bakura's hand. Bakura gazed up, and chuckled bitterly.

"It's our time," he said softly. Marik blinked.

"But I called…the police station," he whispered.

"There must be some sort of jam holding them back. We're going to die," Bakura said. Marik stared straight ahead, and put a hand over his eyes. He sobbed quietly, taking off the sunglasses.

"Oh, god. Is Death here?" he asked. Bakura nodded.

"He's waiting," he said. Suddenly, he got an idea. "Death, make yourself visible for a few minutes." Death suddenly appeared, standing before them and holding the scythe.

"What do you want?" the skeleton asked. Pain and Suffering had obviously already entered their bodies, since the two demons were nowhere to be seen.

"Please," Bakura said. "Please, marry us. You obviously have a position of power—you can do it, right?" Death sighed, obviously annoyed, but nodded.

"Fine," he said. Bakura smiled at Marik, who was still crying.

"Did you hear?" he asked. Marik looked to him. "We're going to be married, right now." Marik gasped.

"Now?" he replied. Bakura nodded, smiling. He clutched Marik's hand tightly.

"I love you," he whispered. "And I want to be with you forever."

"I want to be with you forever, too," Marik replied. "But it's so ironic…we waited almost an entire lifetime just to get married." He laughed bitterly.

"Can I start?" Death interrupted. They nodded. "Do you, Marik Ishtal, take Bakura Touzoku to be your lawfully wedded spouse?"

"I do," Marik said with a smile.

"And do you, Bakura Touzoku, take Marik Ishtal to be your lawfully wedded spouse as well?" Bakura nodded weakly.

"I do," he whispered.

"You may now kiss each other," Death said. Marik propped himself up and gently kissed Bakura's lips. Bakura kissed him back as best as he could with the little energy he had left. Finally, Marik fell over.

"This is it, huh?" Marik asked.

"Yeah, I guess so," Bakura replied softly.

"I guess we'll move on together, forever now," Marik said. He gazed at his hand. "I just wish I had a ring so Ryou and Malik knew." A ring of pure white appeared around his and Bakura's fingers.

"There. Your souls are bound together forever. Wherever Marik goes, Bakura goes. Wherever Bakura goes, Marik goes. Normally you'd go to different places, depending on your sins, but now you have a choice. Bakura would go to Hell, while Marik would simply wander. So choose. Forever wandering the earth, planets, and universe, or Hell?" Death asked.

"This should be your choice," Marik said, looking to Bakura. The other man had grown extremely weak. He was passing on already.

"I want to go where Marik's going," Bakura managed out in a whisper. Marik smiled and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Alright, good," Death said. "You each have exactly two minutes left." Marik kissed Bakura gently, and Bakura smiled feebly.

"I love you," he said, and panted slightly.

"Don't speak," Marik murmured. "I already know. And I love you too, Bakura. I always will."

"Same, here," Bakura whispered. He closed his eyes, and Marik did at the exact same time. They were still alive; their souls were just making the transition. Death stared at the men in front of him. He almost felt sorry for the two—an emotion he hadn't felt in a very long time. With a regretful sigh, he swung the scythe over their bodies. Their souls were finally severed, and free from the earth's binding grasp. The orbs of light—the souls—sped up into the air, past the ceiling and roof, then they stopped. The two orbs made a sharp bank east, and disappeared into the horizon.

When the authorities finally arrived, they found the two men lying on the floor. They looked so peaceful, so perfect, that they looked like they were simply resting. Were they asleep, or dead? It was hard to tell. But one thing was certain; they'd moved on together. Their hands were entwined with each other, the rings touching.

"Shame," Death muttered. He left the house, and saw a girl sitting in an alley. Death laid his scythe next to the child, and this time, he was serious about retiring.

-

Mew: I cried while writing this. Sorry for a sad ending, guys.

Draiku: At least they got married.

Mew: True. That poor girl got to be Death, though. -grins- She wins!

Draiku: Depends on your definition of "win".

Mew: Point taken. Anyway, thanks, everyone, for sticking with me through this fiction (if you did)! I really appreciated all the reviews--particularly the ones with crits in them--and I want to thank you all for reading it! It's been great. -grins-

Yoko: As usual, please, leave a review. We want to know your thoughts on this, y'know!


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